


Alone Together

by castielslashdean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Castiel, M/M, Supernatural AU: mental hospital, human! castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-22
Updated: 2014-03-13
Packaged: 2017-12-24 07:18:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 26
Words: 31,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/936950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielslashdean/pseuds/castielslashdean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas hasn't spoken in nearly 20 years, and he's on the verge of getting thrown out of yet another mental hospital. He is disrespectful, uncooperative, and antisocial, making it very hard for anyone to befriend him. But when Dean is admitted to the hospital, Castiel's whole world turns on it's head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Loner and The Drop-out

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been a long time in coming. I have slaved over this piece of work for over four months, and I hope that you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. This is my first full length fic, so please bear with me on any errors or inaccuracies. There are some violent triggers near the ending, so keep that in mind. I hope you enjoy, and please share your thoughts on this story with me. I would love to know your opinions.

He sat alone, observing everyone milling about the "nutrition center" as per usual. He hated how they called it the "nutrition center." It seemed like a halfhearted attempt to make the washed out, dingy cafeteria seem sophisticated and adult which, like its occupants, it was not. In fact, the cafeteria reminded him very strongly of his high school experiences. Everything was relatively the same; he was a loner, he was excluded, and he still preferred watching to participating. The only difference was now instead of jocks and cheerleaders hassling him, it was a bunch of head cases with ego complexes. Actually, come to think of it, maybe that wasn't so different either.

Most people would just leave him alone, but every once in a while a new patient or an optimistic orderly would try to hold a conversation with him. Eventually they'd get sick of talking to themselves, though, and he'd be left to his own devices once more. He preferred it that way. All the people here were too fake for his tastes. Their smiles seemed forced and their words seemed insincere. He didn't want to waste his time on liars.

Speaking of fake people, here came Mr. Ken doll himself. Ken, or Dustin as most people called the orderly, sauntered up to him, a wide smirk on his face, and said "Doctor Perri would like to see you, Castiel. She said it's important." Castiel rolled his eyes. Dustin enjoyed escorting him to Dr. Perri's office far too much. Either he loved to see Castiel ignore her for his given hour, or he loved to see Castiel get in trouble for being "difficult" and "disrespectful" day after day. Either way, it was a weird kink to have.

Castiel stood up, leaving his untouched toast and cereal; Becky could take care of it later. He followed Dustin through the halls until they came to Dr. Perri's office. Her door was closed, signaling she was with a patient. Castiel hated when she did that. Why did she have to call him down here only to have him wait outside?

Just as he let out an annoyed huff, however, the door opened. A tall, tan man slipped past Castiel. His eyes were on the floor and his hands were balled into fists at his sides. He took loud, angry steps away from the office, quite literally storming off. It looked quite peculiar, too, because of how bow legged the man was. Castiel's mouth quirked up in an almost smile. At least he wasn't the only one that Dr. Perri infuriated.

Without waiting for an invitation inside, Castiel walked into Dr. Perri's office. She looked up at him from her notepad, gesturing for him to sit. As was customary for him, he sat in the chair farthest away from her. He crossed and uncrossed him legs, waiting for her to say something.

"Good morning, Castiel. How are you?" She put down her pen and set he gaze intently upon him. He shrugged noncommittally. "Have anything you would like to talk about?" Castiel looked up at the clock, watching as the second hand ticked away. He shrugged again.

"Okay. What did you do this morning? Did you eat breakfast?" A harsh edge was creeping into Dr. Perri's voice. She was already starting to get annoyed with Castiel. He was about to shrug again, if only to spite her, when a question came to his mind. He motioned for Dr. Perri to hand him her notepad and pen. She sighed.

"Can't you just ask me, Castiel?"

He shook his head, extending his hand for the notepad. Dr. Perri sighed again, defeated, and handed it over to him. He scratched out a message for her.

WHO WAS THAT MAN WHO CAME OUT OF YOUR OFFICE THIS MORNING?

Castiel held it up for her to see, staring at her expectantly. "Why do you want to know?" Dr. Perri asked, leaning in with telltale curiosity. Castiel just pointed to the question again, ignoring her inquiry. When she stayed silent, he wrote another message.

IS HE A PATIENT?

"Yes, indeed, he is."

WHAT IS HE IN FOR?

"You know I can't tell you that. Why don't we talk about you now? Why haven't you been participating in group?" Dr. Perri's voice was hopeful, but Castiel was already lost in his thoughts again. He felt he had shared enough for one session. His eyes wandered back to the clock. "Come on Castiel, don't shut me out now! This is the most you've communicated with me in months."

Castiel glanced back at her, his eyes blank. He wasn't sure what she expected from him. Did she really think that she could get through to him, that she could change him? He'd given up hope about any such thing many years ago. He'd been here at Blue Grass Mental Rehabilitation Center for just over six years and he still wasn't "fixed." Not that he'd had much faith when he arrived in the first place. This was not the first hospital Castiel had been to. In fact, he hadn't been home since he was seventeen. He'd been bounced from hospital to hospital for years. Every time his doctor got fed up with him, they'd send him away so he could be someone else's problem. This was the longest he'd ever stayed in one place, but Castiel had a feeling he wouldn't be here much longer. Dr. Perri was losing her patience with him. He didn't blame her, though.

"Are you just going to ignore me for our entire session?" Dr. Perri demanded. Castiel answered with silence. "Oh fine. Dustin, take him back to his room until Group. I expect you to participate this time, Castiel."

Castiel spent his afternoon staring out his window, watching the birds fly by. He quite enjoyed watching them swoop and glide through the air. He wished he had the same sort of freedom they had. They had the entire sky at their disposal; they could go anywhere. But those silly birds, most of them never strayed too far from their nests. Castiel didn't understand why they'd waste time at home when they could be flying in the open air. That's all he'd ever really wanted, the ability to go anywhere at any time. He never told anyone this, though. They'd think he was silly and immature to have such wishes. And they were probably right. But it didn't keep him from hoping. He'd spent so much of his life caged and contained, having his every moment planned out for him. What he wouldn't give to be able to just take a simple walk out in the street, to watch as the cars whizzed by.

"Day dreaming again, Cassie?" Dustin was leaning against Castiel's doorway, that ugly grin plastered on his face. Castiel frowned. "It's time for Group."

In Castiel's opinion, Group was pointless. The same people volunteered to go every time, and usually it was the same crock as the time before. Someone would tell a sob story to gain sympathy points, someone would have a "breakthrough," and someone else would have a breakdown. It was almost formulaic and it definitely struck him as fabricated. Once Castiel entered the group therapy room, however, his attitude changed. The man from this morning was slouching in his chair with his arms across his chest and his legs spread wide. He looked bored and irritated; finally someone who shared Castiel's sentiment.

Much to Castiel's dismay, the only seat left was the one to the left of Dr. Perri. He half considered simply walking out, but he decided that hearing the new guy's story would be worth the torture. As soon as he sat down, Dr. Perri cleared her throat to indicate it was time to start.

"Now that everyone is situated, how about we go around and introduce ourselves. As you've probably noticed, we have a new member in the group, and I think it would be nice if we all got to know each other. So please, say your name and something interesting about yourself," Dr. Perri said, smiling. "Why don't you start Jenny?"

Jenny, who was sitting to the right of Dr. Perry, stood up and smoothed her skirt nervously. "Well, I'm Jenny, and I guess something that's interesting about me is that I can crochet just about anything." The new guy snorted at this, and Jenny looked over at him indignantly. "Is there something funny about that to you?!" Though he shook his head, his wide smile said differently.

"Okay wise guy, how about you tell us about yourself, then, if you're so impressive," Allen asserted hotly.

The man stood up swiftly, his head held high with confidence. He cracked another grin before beginning. "My name's Dean and something interesting about me is that I'm a drop out with six bucks to his name."

"And you think Jenny is something to laugh at!" Allen retorted. Dean just shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly before sitting back down.

"Alright then, Allen, that's enough. Why don't you introduce yourself?" Dr. Perri suggested.

"And have this jackass make some wisecrack? No thanks."

"Allen—"

"I said no!"

An uncomfortable silence filled the air. Everyone in the group avoided eye contact with one another; that is, aside from Castiel, who was staring Dean down. Dean didn't so much as blink under Castiel's icy gaze.

"Okay, well, would anyone like to volunteer then? What about you, Tim?"

"Why me? Why not Kim or Castiel?" Tim muttered.

"You think Castiel would actually speak? Are you kidding?" Jenny scoffed.

"He could write it down," Kim offered helpfully.

"Yeah right. Castiel doesn't have time for people like us. He's too important," said Allen. His voice was saturated with sarcasm.

"Let's not attack members of the group," Dr. Perri said sternly. "Castiel, would you like to share?"

Much to everyone's surprise, Castiel nodded. He took the paper and pen Dr. Perri offered to him and wrote:

HELLO DEAN. I AM CASTIEL. THERE IS NOTHING INTERESTING THAT I HAVE TO SHARE.

He handed it to Dean, who was seated directly across from him. Dean read it and smirked. "Nice to meet you, Cas," he said, extending his hand. Castiel simply nodded in response.

After that, Dr. Perri forced Kim and Tim to introduce themselves. Allen still refused and even skipped his turn to share. Dean had obviously made an enemy for himself. Once group was over, and everyone was putting their chairs away, Dean approached Kim.

"So what's up with that Castiel guy?" he whispered.

"What do you mean?" Kim asked.

"I mean… Why didn't he talk? Is he sick or something?"

"What? No. Why would he be sick?"

"I don't know, just a guess. Does he ever talk, or does he always write stuff down?"

"No, he never talks, and usually he doesn't write either. You're actually the first person I've ever seen him acknowledge. I've been here for six months and as far as I've seen, he just ignores everyone."

"Should I feel special or scared?" Dean replied jokingly.

"Definitely special. I spent three weeks trying to get him to talk to me. I sat with him at lunch, I followed him around in the rec room, asked him questions during group, and he didn't so much as look at me. In the end, I just kind of gave up, because he obviously wanted nothing to do with me. But you seem to have caught his interest. Maybe you'll be the one to finally crack him," Kim went on, grinning distantly. "I hope you will be, anyway. It'd be nice to see him take down his walls."

"I wouldn't count on it. He's just curious, I think. I'm just some new guy he wants to figure out. Once he realizes I'm nothing special, he'll ignore me too."

"I don't know about that, Dean. Castiel is one who finds brilliance in seemingly ordinary things."

Kim smiled brightly up at him before walking out of the room. Dean was confused by how flattered he felt by her observations, but her kind words gave him a little hope. Maybe he wasn't completely useless after all.


	2. Queen Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Castiel and Dean have become acquainted, it seems that Castiel is breaking all of his rules. He's gone from being a loner to now having a friend, and he is not entirely sure what to make of it just yet.

Castiel wandered into the nutrition center halfway through breakfast the next morning. He'd woken up late and now the room was bustling with people. He usually got there before anyone else so he could claim a table for himself, but now he'd be forced to share with someone. However, the tables were full. That is, all except one.

"Hey, Cas! Come sit with me and Kim!" Dean called from across the room, waving Castiel over. Castiel figured that sitting with Dean would be more bearable than any alternative, so he made his way over. He took the empty seat across from Dean, setting down his tray.

"So, Cas, is the food any good here?" Dean asked. Castiel shook his head. He pushed his tray towards Dean, offering him to take his pick from the food on it. Castiel rarely ate because of how deeply he despised Blue Grass's "cuisine." Dean shoved the tray back at him. "Nah, man, you gotta eat. At least munch on some toast or something."

Castiel obliged by taking a dry bite of his toast, grimacing as he chewed. He regretted his decision not to butter it earlier.

"There you go! Not so bad, huh? Though I'm not particularly picky. I'll eat anything that doesn't eat me first," Dean said, shoveling oatmeal into his mouth. Castiel stared at Dean, his head cocked to one side. He was confused by Dean's figure of speech.

"What? Do I have something on my face?" Dean asked. Castiel shook his head again. "Dude, where's your pen and paper? How the hell am I supposed to know what you're trying to tell me without it?" Castiel gave his signature shrug.

"Alright, just wait right here. I'll be back in two seconds. Don't go anywhere, okay?" Dean took off from the table, leaving Castiel to sit in awkward silence with Kim. He continued to nibble at his toast, doing his best to avoid eye contact. After what seemed like eternity, Dean returned with a blue journal in hand.

"That nurse Anna got this from the art room for me. She said you can have it so we can, you know, talk to each other I guess. Oh, here's a pen too," Dean offered, handing the journal over to Castiel. Castiel took it with both hands, running his fingers over the glossy cover. He flipped it open to the first page and scribbled something out.

THANK YOU.

He showed it to Dean, who grinned. "You're welcome, Cas. It wouldn't be very entertaining to hang out with a mute guy all day if he didn't have some way to talk to me."

Once they finished off their breakfast, Dean, Castiel, and Kim headed to the rec room for "free time." Kim wandered off to the book shelf to return the book she had finished the day before. Dean and Castiel settled onto the couch, leaving an entire cushion's space between them.

"Cas, don you ever just get sick of listening to other people talk? Don't you ever just want to tell them to shut up?"

SOMETIMES.

"Do you want to tell me to shut up?" Dean asked, looking honestly curious. "I have been bothering you all morning, after all."

NO. YOU SAY INTERESTING, TRUTHFUL THINGS.

"Oh really? I'm interesting? Don't give me a big head now."

YOU DON'T LIE. YOU SAY IT HOW IT IS. I DON'T LIKE LIARS.

Dean's mouth quirked up at that. "Me neither. That's why I tell it like it is."

INDEED.

"So is that why you don't talk? Because you don't want to encourage the liars?" Dean was looking at Castiel rather intently now, but Castiel didn't notice.

THAT'S PART OF IT, I SUPPOSE.

"But not all of it?"

Again, Castiel shrugged. He didn't really know the whole reason why he became mute. He'd been silent for so long, he'd all but forgotten why he'd stopped talking.

"Do you just hate the way your voice sounds? 'Cause my little brother got all sorts of self-conscious about his voice when it dropped," Dean said jokingly. Castiel gave a small smile. "Do you even remember what your voice sounds like?"

NOT REALLY.

Dean shifted back, surprised. He was being sarcastic when he asked, but Castiel looked very serious. "When was the last time you spoke?" Dean inquired softly.

WHEN I WAS SEVENTEEN.

"Seventeen? Jesus, how long have you been in this place?"

I'VE BEEN AT BLUE GRASS FOR SIX YEARS, BUT I'VE BEEN IN HOSPITALS LIKE IT FOR ALMOST 20 YEARS.

"So what, you haven't spoken since you first got admitted?" It surprised Castiel that Dean didn't react to how long he'd be a patient in places like this. He thought Dean would at least make some wise crack about being in a nut house for more than half of his life.

I SUPPOSE NOT.

"That's such a long time to go without saying anything. I'd go insane. Don't you ever get tired of having to write everything down?"

MOST OF THE TIME, I DON'T WRITE. I IGNORE PEOPLE WHEN THEY TRY TO TALK TO ME.

"Then why are you writing now?"

Castiel put down his pen for a moment, unsure of how to answer. Why was he answering Dean's questions?

I HONESTLY DON'T KNOW.

"Well, I'm going to take it as a compliment. I think it means you don't totally hate me."

PERHAPS YOU ARE CORRECT IN THAT ASSUMPTION.

"Well, either way, you're not getting rid of me. The rest of these head cases irritate the piss out of me," Dean stated, looking around the room. "They all like to play head games, and I'm not into that. You may not talk, but at least that means that you can't lie."

PRECISELY.

"So, what do you do for fun around here. They've got ping pong and chess and stuff. Do you like any of that?"

I DON'T KNOW. NEVER PLAYED.

"You mean you've been locked up nearly 20 years and you haven't even taken advantage of the only entertainment?" Castiel shrugged. "Come on, I used to play ping pong all the time at Red Stone. I'll teach you."

Without waiting for Castiel to scrawl out his reply, Dean jumped up from the couch and sprinted over to the ping pong table. He picked up a paddle and motioned for Castiel to join him. Castiel shook his head.

"Come on Cas! A little fun won't kill you!" Dean exclaimed, dribbling the ball with his paddle. He looked like an excited child. Castiel sighed and laboriously heaved himself off of the couch. Leaving his pen and journal behind, he joined Dean at the table. After only an hour of Dean's teachings, Castiel defeated him three times in a row. Though ping pong was not a particularly demanding activity, Dean was still impressed by how quickly Cas caught on. After his fourth loss, Dean decided they should try something else. They moved over to the checkers board and Dean started to explain the rules as he set up.

"So if you get over to the other side, you say 'King me' and then that checker can move where ever you want."

Castiel picked up his journal from the couch and wrote out:

WHY MUST THE CHECKER BE KINGED BEFORE IT IS FREE TO MOVE WHERE IT WISHES?

"Don't get philosophical on me, Cas. It's just part of the game. You can say 'Queen me' for all I care."

Just as he had with ping pong, Castiel caught on to checkers amazingly quickly. After the first game, he was beating Dean within a matter of minutes.

"Damn, dude, is there any game that you don't kick my ass at?" Dean complained after his fifth loss. Castiel snorted.

IF IT COMFORTS YOU, I'M SURE YOUR ATHLETIC ABILITIES FAR SURPASS MY OWN.

"So you weren't the captain of your football team in high school, then?"

NOT EVEN CLOSE.

"What were you then? The nerdy Trekie? The drama boy?" Dean questioned jokingly.

NOT EVEN THAT. I WAS INVISIBLE. EVERYONE IGNORED ME.

Dean's jade green eyes flashed at this and his lips pursed. He wanted to say something, to crack some joke to break the tension, but for once he was at a loss. Castiel's blunt honesty had caught him off guard. Thankfully Kim had come to fill the awkward silence.

"Come on boys! It's time for lunch!" She yelled, heading out the door. Dean smiled kindly at Castiel, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

"Let's go, man. I'm starving."

ALREADY?

Even in writing, the response seemed snarky. Dean chuckled. "Yes, already. After all, we did eat a whole two hours ago."

Dean walked out the door and Castiel followed, a near smile ghosting his lips.


	3. People Skills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since befriending Dean, Castiel's people skills have begun to improve. He has even started to participate in group! But things begin to go wrong when Allen starts running his mouth.

Dean was the first to arrive in the group therapy room that evening, giving him first pick of the chairs. He chose the one directly across from the door so he could watch as the people filed in. Kim was the second one to arrive and took the seat to the left of Dean. She turned to look at him and said "Here so early, Dean? I'm usually the first one in!"

"I honestly didn't have anything better to do," Dean replied, eyes still on the door. "I haven't been assigned a doctor, so my 'personal treatment plan' hasn't been set up yet. All I get to do all day is sit in my room or play checkers by myself until they figure out what they want to do with me."

"You could hang out with Castiel," Kim reminded him.

"He was in Dr. Perri's office all afternoon. She even canceled her other appointments. It must have been really important. That, or really bad," Dean explained, turning towards Kim.

"Well, speak of the devil and he shall appear. Now you can ask him!" Kim commented.

Castiel sat down to the right of Dean, his journal in his hands. He nodded in Dean's direction, as if to say hello.

"Where were you this afternoon, Cas? I was bored out of my mind!" Dean whined.

I HAD AN EXTENDED SESSION WITH DR. PERRI. IT SEEMS SHE FEELS THAT I HAD WHAT SHE CALLS A 'BREAK THROUGH' YESTERDAY AND THAT I AM FINALLY MAKING 'PROGRESS.' SHE WANTS TO ADJUST MY TREATMENT PROGRAM AND MAKE IT MORE RIGOROUS.

"Well what was your treatment program like before?"

I DID WHATEVER I WANTED, BASICALLY. DR. PERRI IS STILL TRYING TO DECIDE WHAT SHE WANTS TO DO WITH ME NOW. SHE'S NOT REALLY SURE HOW TO DEAL WITH SOMEONE IN MY CONDITION.

"Mute?" Dean asked.

UNCOOPERATIVE, MOSTLY.

Dean let out a loud, halting laugh. Kim smiled at Castiel's sarcastic response.

"Who knew mute guys could be so funny!" Dean exclaimed. Castiel smirked smugly. "Look at him! He knows it too! He knows he's hilarious!"

"Are you talking about little Cassie here?" Dustin interrupted, ruffling Castiel's hair. Cas looked up at Dustin, his blue eyes icy with cold anger. When Dustin caught a glimpse, he removed his hand from Castiel's hair, his smile fading. "Since when is he funny?"

"As long as I've been talking to him, Cas has been awesomely hilarious. You just must not get his humor," Dean said condescendingly. "It is above your fifth grade intelligence level."

"Look, smart ass—" Dustin began, just as Dr. Perri walked through the door. He clamped his mouth shut upon seeing her and gave Dean a look that said 'This isn't over.' Dean just smiled and waved.

Not long after Dr. Perri showed up, the rest of the group filed in. Once everyone was done shuffling and fidgeting to get comfortable, Dr. Perri spoke. "Great to see everyone here! I hope you all had a productive day. Since we got introductions out of the way yesterday, I thought we'd start by sharing. Let's start with you, Dean, since it was your first day here. How was it?"

"It was alright. I spent the morning getting my butt kicked by Cas in ping pong and checkers. Don't let this guy hustle you, he's a pro. I didn't really do much this afternoon, though. Mostly just watched TV in the rec room and laid around in my room," Dean shared.

"Wait, wait. Castiel not only acknowledged your existence, but he played games with you? What, are you drugging him?" Allen inquired, half astonished, half pissed. Castiel hadn't so much as glanced his way in the three years Allen had been there.

NO, DEAN DID NOT FORCABLY SUPPLY ME WITH NARCOTICS. HE ASKED ME TO PLAY, SO I OBLIGDED.

Castiel held up the message for Allen to read. Allen scowled, his mouth curled into an unattractive frown.

"So what, the rest of us aren't good enough for you? Your only type are Godly hot, douche bag drop outs? Shoulda known you were a fag."

"Allen, one more outburst and I'm removing you from group and revoking your recreation time. Watch your mouth," Dr. Perri snapped. "We don't use language like that."

"What would it matter if Cas was gay? Not saying he is, but who really cares?" Kim interjected.

"I appreciate you trying to help, Kim, but let's steer away from the topic of sexuality, okay? Let's get back to sharing. Castiel, how was your day?" Dr. Perri asked.

Everyone in the group expected Castiel to fix his eyes to the clock and ignore whatever questions came his way, but he actually started to scratch away in his journal.

AS DEAN PREVIOUSLY STATED, WE PLAYED CHECKERS AND PING PONG THIS MORNING. AND AS YOU ARE AWARE, DR. PERRI, I SPENT THE AFTERNOON REVISING MY TREATMENT PLAN WITH YOU. THEN I CAME HERE.

"And how do you feel about the revision of your plan?" the doctor wondered after reading Castiel's reply.

IT'S FINE, I GUESS. CHANGING THINGS UP AFTER SO LONG MIGHT BE NICE.

"How do you feel about participating in group now? Are you interested in becoming more involved?"

I DON'T KNOW. WE'LL SEE.

"There's the cryptic Castiel we all know and hate," Allen taunted.

"Hey, jackass, will you back off? He's trying okay. That's more than you can say," Dean retorted.

"Who are you to say anything? Like you're actually taking any of this shit to heart. I've seen guys like you before. You're just playing the game so you can get back to doing drugs or getting smashed!" Allen's voice was beginning to rise in volume. "You're just a fake, lying son of a bitch like the rest of us."

YOU'RE WRONG.

Castiel threw his journal to Allen, the message written boldly in all capitals. Castiel was glowering at him.

"How would you know? You're the biggest liar here, Castiel! Acting like you're so tough and in control, when really you're just a scared child!" Allen shouted.

"That's enough!" Dr. Perri bellowed. "Dustin, escort Allen to my office. Group is over for tonight."

She stalked out of the room without another word, Dustin and Allen not far behind. Everyone else sat in a stunned silence.

"Hey, thanks for having my back, man," Dean whispered to Castiel, breaking the quiet. Castiel gave a small grin.

NO PROBLEM. YOU DID THE SAME FOR ME.

Once they put their chairs away, Castiel, Dean, and Kim decided to spend the remainder of their free time watching American Idol and arguing over who would be eliminated that night. In the end, Castiel's favorite, a small, thin mouse of a girl was sent home. Dean consoled him by assuring him that she would get a record deal back home. It wasn't how Castiel usually spent his evenings, but to his surprise, he found himself enjoying it more than his usual solidarity. Perhaps his "people skills" were improving.


	4. Roomies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the hospital is given more funding, they start assigning roommates. How is Castiel going to handle sharing his space with another patient?

Over the next few weeks, Dean and Castiel spent an increasing amount of time together. They ate their meals together, and every time Dean would coax Castiel into eating. They would usually spend their free time relaxing in the rec room watching America's Next Top Model or playing chess. Castiel was always fascinated by how different the models looked during photo shoots, though Dean had explained numerous times that it was cosmetics doing all the work. Towards the end of Dean's first month at Blue Grass, Castiel was actually beginning to consider them as friends.

On a particularly lazy afternoon, Dustin appeared in the rec room to summon both Dean and Castiel to Dr. Perri's office. When they wandered in, she was surrounded by paper work. Her eyes looked heavy and tired.

"Hello boys. Please, take a seat," she said, gesturing to the chairs in front of her. They obeyed without a word of protest. "So I have some good news and bad news for you. Good news is the state has granted us more funding, which will allow us to take on more patients. The bad news is the amount of patients we're expecting to take on leaves us with limited room. Which means… We're going to have to start assigning roommates."

Both of the men sat there, staring at the doctor blankly. What did this have to do with them?

"Since Castiel has taken such a shining to you, Dean, I was considering having you move into his room. That way neither of you will have to share with someone you're not comfortable with. What do you think?"

"I mean, I wouldn't mind, but it's really up to Cas. I don't wanna be all up in his business," Dean answered.

"Castiel?" Dr. Perri asked expectantly.

IF I HAVE TO ROOM WITH ANYBODY, I WOULD PREFER IT BE DEAN.

"Okay, great! Thank you boys for being so cooperative. This whole situation has been very stressful and it's very nice to have my two most difficult cases agree so easily."

"Two most difficult? What's so tough about us? I know Cas doesn't talk, but he's been doing a lot better!" Dean protested.

"I know, Dean, and I agree. But you two are incredibly hard to crack. In order for me to treat you, I have to find the source of the problem. But I think your friendship will be beneficial in that. You've really opened up since you befriended each other."

Dean and Castiel exchanged skeptical looks.

"Okay, doc, whatever you say," Dean amended.

"Now, Dustin, I want you and Anna to help Dean gather his things and move them into Castiel's room. I'll call a janitor to bring in another bed."

Dustin grunted his obedience and escorted Dean out of the room. As Castiel was about to leave, Dr. Perri stopped him.

"Are you really okay with this, Castiel? If it makes you uncomfortable, we can figure something else out. I don't want anything to hinder your progress or make you regress." Her eyes were full of genuine concern that made Castiel cringe.

I AM TRULY OKAY. DEAN, AFTER ALL, IS MY FRIEND. I HAVE NO PROBLEM SHARING MY ROOM WITH HIM.

"I'm glad to hear that. It's nice to see you being social, especially with Dean. I think your kindness is really helping him. He's had some rough times, some really rough times, and I think he could really use the compassion that you've been giving him. Not many people are able to look past his rugged edges."

HE LOOKED PAST MINE. THE LEAST I CAN DO IS RETURN THE FAVOR. I'M GLAD I CAN HELP HIM.

"I am too. Do you think he helps you as well, Castiel?"

I DON'T KNOW. HE MAKES MY DAYS GO BY A BIT FASTER. HE'S FUNNY. EASY TO TALK TO, I GUESS.

"Why'd you warm up to him?" Dr. Perri inquired. Castiel shrugged his shoulders.

I'M NOT SURE.

"Well, either which way, I'm glad you've found a friend here and that you're finally communicating with me. I'm really optimistic about the future of your treatment."

I AM TOO.

Castiel set his eyes upon Dr. Perri for the first time that meeting, a small smile on his lips. She grinned broadly back at him. He actually felt as if he had a future now. Perhaps, one day, he could escape the institutionalized life.

"You can go now, Castiel."

Castiel nodded his goodbye and headed to his room. Dean was already settling in by hanging up his posters. Apparently he needed AC/DC watching over him. A second bed had already been brought in, each shoved to opposite sides of the room. Both of them sported the ugly green bedding that the hospital provided. Evidentially neither Dean nor Cas felt that a new comforter was worth investing in.

"You don't mind me hanging these up, do you?" Dean asked, turning his back on Angus Young to look at Castiel. Castiel shook his head. "Good, 'cause these guys are rock and roll gods and they deserve to be worshiped."

They spend a remainder of the evening rearranging Dean's posters and finding a place for his things. Castiel had to clear half of the dresser for him, not that it was much trouble. He only had four pairs of slacks and four t-shirts anyway. By the time lights out rolled around, Dean was completely settled in.

Both of the men laid in their beds, glancing around the room and admiring their handy work. Castiel liked how the posters looked on the walls; they made the room seem less naked. And though Dean wouldn't admit it, he did enjoy the single painting that Castiel had hanging up on his side of the room. It was a reprint of Van Gogh's "Starry Night."

"Hey, Cas?" Dean murmured sleepily. "How did you end up in here?"

The scratch of pen on paper told Dean that Castiel was working out a response. Once he was through writing, Castiel ripped out the paper with his answer, crumpled it up, and chucked it at Dean.

I HAD WHAT DOCTORS CALL A "MENTAL BREAK." I WAS HOME BY MYSELF WHEN IT HAPPENED. I ENDED UP DESTOYING HALF OF MY HOUSE UNTIL MY BROTHER CAME HOME AND RESTRAINED ME.

"What made you freak out?"

EVERYTHING, REALLY. THE THING THAT FINALLY MADE ME BREAK, THOUGH, WAS FAILING MY SECOND SEMESTER OF JUNIOR YEAR. I'D JUST GOTTEN MY REPORT CARD BACK AND IT DEVISTATED ME THAT I'D FAILED. UP TO THAT POINT, I'D BEEN A STRAIGHT A STUDENT, A SHINING EXAMPLE FOR MY YOUNGER SIBLINGS, AND NOW I WAS LETTING THEM DOWN. I KNEW MY FATHER WOULD BE FURIOUS, AND I DON'T KNOW, I GUESS DIDN'T KNOW HOW TO HANDLE IT.

"It sounds like your dad put a lot of responsibility on your shoulders," Dean said.

IN SOME WAYS, YES. HE EXPECTED ME TO BE THE VERY BEST. BUT HE, LIKE MOST OTHERS, TENDED TO IGNORE ME. THAT IS, UNTIL I MISBEHAVED OR DISOBEYED. THEN I GOT HIS FULL ATTENTION.

"I can kind of relate. My dad put a lot of responsibility on my shoulders too."

IN WHAT WAY?

"He expected me to protect my little brother at all times. Hell, I practically raised the kid. I taught him how to ride a bike, how to shoot a gun, how to flirt with girls. I'm the one who gave him 'the talk.' I'm the one who patched him up when he got in his first fight. And if I ever screwed up and Sammy got hurt, well, all hell broke loose. My dad expected me to watch over him all the time. Sometimes I think that he only thought of me as a guard for Sam or something."

IS THAT WHY YOU ENDED UP HERE? YOU FELT TOO PRESSURED BY YOUR FATHER?

"Kind of," Dean sighed. "It's a long story."

They laid in silence for a while, their breathing the only sound. Castiel began to regret asking about Dean's reason for being at Blue Grass, like he'd pushed too far, and now Dean was ignoring him because he was upset. But soon Castiel heard Dean snore and realized he'd simply fallen asleep. Castiel snorted, amused by how easily Dean slipped into unconsciousness. He'd apologize in the morning.


	5. Man of Iron

The next morning, Castiel woke to Dean singing along to a rock song playing on the radio. He was in the bathroom, brushing his teeth, and singing around his tooth brush.

"Heat of the moment," he garbled. "Something, something, na, na, na. This is the heat of the moment, the sun in your eyes."

Castiel sat up and stretched before rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He actually felt rested and relaxed, a new occurrence for him. Most nights consisted of tossing and turning, but last night he'd slept like a rock.

"Morning Cas! I hope I didn't wake you," Dean greeted, putting his tooth brush away. Castiel shook his head. "How'd you sleep?"

FAIRLY WELL, ACTUALLY. YOURSELF?

"I got more than my usual four hours, so that was nice. They're showing a movie tonight, if you wanna go watch it. It's Iron Man!" When Castiel began to shake his head again, Dean added "Please? Iron Man is my favorite movie! I don't wanna go alone!"

YOU WOULDN'T BE ALONE. PRACTICALLY EVERYONE ATTENDS THE MOVIE NIGHTS.

"C'mon Cas, you know what I mean. Don't be such a downer. It'll be fun."

IF YOU REALLY WANT MY COMPANY, I WILL ATTEND.

"There you go! Way to be adventurous. You'll love the movie; Robert Downey Jr. is an amazing actor," Dean told Cas. Castiel rolled his eyes.

The boys headed down to breakfast, first stopping by Kim's room to wake her up. For once, she was already dressed and ready. As they walked down the hall towards the nutrition center, Dean invited Kim to join them at the movie.

"I can't," Kim explained. "I'm leaving this afternoon to go to the hospital. Apparently I've developed a cyst in my stomach and Dr. Perri scheduled me to get it removed tonight. I won't be back for a few days since this place is so far away from town, and they want to keep me close for a while in case something goes wrong."

IS IT SERIOUS? Castiel inquired, handing Kim his journal for her to read. She shook her head, handing it back.

"No, Dr. Perri says it's a pretty simple procedure. I should be just fine."

Castiel nodded knowingly. He'd experienced a few surgeries himself.

"What are Cas and I going to do without you, Kimmy? You're the one who keeps us in line!" Dean exclaimed. Kim laughed.

"Don't remind me! Lord knows what you'll do without me to keep an eye on you!" She punched Dean playfully in the arm. "Don't get into too much trouble without me, okay?"

"Okay," Dean agreed. "It's not like Cas would let me do anything too wild anyways. I barely convinced him to go to the movie tonight."

They ate their breakfast quickly before all going their separate ways. Tuesdays were always particularly busy; Castiel had extended sessions with Dr. Perri, Dean had occupational therapy and anger management, and Kim tutored other patients who were studying to get their GEDs. She'd been working with Tim for the past month, trying to get him caught up on math.

At dinner that night, Dean commented on how quiet it was without Kim. "She's the only other one in our group of misfits that actually talks."

YOU AND I COMMUNICATE.

"Yeah, I know. It's just weird for it to be so quiet. Kim never shuts up, and sometimes I have to pull teeth to get you to answer me." Castiel gave Dean an apologetic look. "Though you've been doing really good, Cas. I'm proud of you."

I KNOW I'M HARD TO GET ALONG WITH SOMETIMES. BUT I APPRECIATE YOU STICKING BY ME, DEAN.

"C'mon, Cas, don't get mushy on me. We're buds, we stick together. It's that simple."

They finished off their meals and settled down on the couch in the rec room in waiting for the movie to start. Dean leaned back, stretching his torso. His bones popped and cracked.

"Don't try that whole stretch and grab thing, Dean. Castiel is a total prude," Allen sneered as her walked by.

"Just 'cause you can't get any doesn't mean I won't!" Dean called after him. Castiel snickered. "What a dick."

HE'S JUST SEXUALLY FRUSTRATED.

"Ha! And he says you're a prude!"

Soon after, everyone else settled into their spots and Anna started the movie. Dean kept glancing over at Castiel, watching to make sure he was having the correct reactions. To Dean's delight, Castiel cringed when he was supposed to, chuckled in the right spots, and even teared up when appropriate. He showed the emotional range of a normal human being!

When the movie ended, Dean turned and looked at Cas expectantly while he wrote out his review.

YOU WERE CORRECT. ROBERT DOWNEY JR. IS A BRILLIANT ACTOR!

"I know! Wasn't the music awesome too? So many amazing rock songs!"

INDEED.

Dean smiled warmly, proud of himself for introducing Castiel to something new. "I'm glad you liked it."

I LOVED IT, STRANGELY ENOUGH. THAT TONY STARK REMINDS ME OF YOU.

"What? Intelligent and handsome?" Dean asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

NO, SARCASTIC AND EGOTISTICAL.

"Ouch! You've wounded my pride, man!"

Castiel laughed at his own joke and Dean joined in. He clapped his hand on Castiel's shoulder, shaking his head.

"You're a trip, Castiel. Never change."

Castiel gave a huge grin and nodded. If Dean thought he was okay, Castiel didn't want to be different.


	6. To a Friend's Defense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Allen gangs up on Castiel, Dean decides to step in to defend his friend.

"So, Castiel, I've noticed you still haven't been sharing much in group," was how Dr. Perri started their Wednesday morning session. "Please tell me you have some way to express yourself. Do you talk to Dean?"

SOMETIMES, ABOUT CERTAIN THINGS.

"Like what?"

I TOLD HIM HOW I ENDED UP IN HERE, FOR ONE.

"You haven't even shared that story with me," Dr. Perri stated, surprised.

YOU HAVE ACESS TO MY RECORDS. YOU ALREADY KNOW WHY I'M HERE.

"Castiel, it's a bit different coming from your perspective. I know what lead up to your admittance, but I, nor any other doctor assigned to you case, knows what caused your mental break." Castiel shrugged, causing Dr. Perri to frown, "Anyway… What about something else? Have you tried writing, or perhaps playing an instrument?"

Cas shook his head, looking disinterested. "Well, you like Van Gogh, don't you? Why not try your hand at art?" Dr. Perri suggested.

I'VE NEVER BEEN VERY SKILLED AT IT.

"That's not what matters; it's about expressing how you feel. And besides, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Your art could be really great and you wouldn't know because you lack a confidence in your own abilities."

I CAN TRY, I SUPPOSE.

"Fantastic! Why don't you head down to the nurse's station and tell Anna you need some supplies."

Castiel followed his instructions and Anna loaded him up on supplies. She gave him a sketch book, drawing pencils, an assortment of pens and erasers, and four charcoal pencils. He settled down at a table in the art room and opened his sketch book to the first page. He pressed a charcoal pencil to the page, trying to think of what to draw.

"Whatcha gonna draw?" Anna asked, looking over Castiel's shoulder. He held up his hands in a gesture of uncertainty. "Try drawing what inspires you."

Castiel nodded, taking Anna's suggestion to heart. He began to sketch away. A face started to appear under his pencil, deeply shadowed but somehow light and innocent.

"Hey, Cas!" Dean greeted cheerfully, taking the seat opposite of Castiel. "What are you doing?"

I AM DRAWING TO 'EXPRESS MYSELF' AT DR. PERRI'S REQUEST.

"Drawing what?" Dean asked, leaning forward to look. Castiel shielded his work with his hand, shaking his head.

YOU DON'T GET TO SEE. IT'S NOT DONE YET. WHY ARE YOU HERE?

"Occupational therapy, though I can't draw like you, so I just make dream catchers. Wanna see the one I've been working on?" Castiel nodded his concurrence. Dean took a box out from under the table and removed one of the many dream catchers.

"See, it's got these cool turquoise feathers and these black beads," Dean said, holding it out to Cas. Castiel took it into his hands, looking it over closely.

IT'S AMAZING. I LOVE IT.

"If you want it, you can have it. But only if you let me see that drawing when you're done. I'm really curious."

SEEMS LIKE A FAIR AGREEMENT.

Castiel handed back the dream catcher so Dean could set to work, and turned his attention back to his sketch. He kept his left arm over to very top of the paper to guard it from Dean's view and began to draw again. They worked in silence for several minutes.

"Hey, Cassie, what ya got there? Are you drawing something pretty?" Castiel looked up to see Allen towering over their table, leering down at him. He picked up his pen to write out a snarky response, but just as he moved, Allen pulled his sketchbook off the table. Allen jumped back, out of Castiel's reach, and studied the drawing.

"Oh look, Dean!" he jeered, displaying the sketchbook for Dean to see. "Your little fag of a best friend was drawing you! He even got your cheek bones right!"

Castiel leapt from his seat, grabbing for his sketch book. Allen was several inches taller than him, however, and held the book high above his head mockingly. Castiel felt like a dog snapping at a bird that was just out of his reach. His cheeks flushed in anger and embarrassment.

"God damn it, Allen, leave Cas alone!" Dean demanded, rising from his chair.

"You're such a good boyfriend, coming to his rescue like that."

Dean's hands curled into fists at his sides and he closed the space between Allen and himself, getting in his face. His eyes were burning with rage.

"I said back the fuck off, bitch." Dean's voice came out in a feral, livid growl.

"And what exactly are you going to do, tough guy? Hit me, and you'll get your ass kicked right out of this place. Then you'll have to move back in with your daddy, and God knows how well that goes for you. How long did you manage the last time they sent you back? Two weeks before you attempted suicide, wasn't it?"

All the color drained from Dean's face. His eyes were round with shock. "How the hell did you know about that?!"

"Let's just say I'm real good with a bobby pin and Dr. Perri has left me alone in her office a time or two. Those file cabinets should really be more secure."

"Say one more thing and I'll—"

"You'll what?" Allen interrupted. "Slit your wrists? 'Cause you've already done that."

Just as Dean opened his mouth to spit a few choice insults Allen's way, Castiel's fist connected with Allen's jaw, sending him to the floor. Castiel jumped on top of him, getting in a few punches before Dustin and Anna wrestled him off. As they dragged Cas away, Allen sat up, cradling his bloody face between his hands. Castiel stared him down the entire way out the door.

When Castiel was released from solitary confinement the following morning, Dean and Kim were waiting for him outside. The moment she saw him, Kim pounced.

"What happened to keeping out of trouble while I was gone?!" She demanded angrily. Castiel simply stared at her. "What were you thinking, attacking Allen like that?"

"Cut him some slack, he was just defending me," Dean attested.

"What am I going to do with you boys?!" Kim threw up her hands in frustration while storming away. Castiel glanced at Dean, waiting for his reaction. Dean cleared his throat while scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

"Well, thanks man for having my back. But, uh, maybe you should lay off the violence, eh? I don't want you getting kicked out or nothing." Castiel nodded in understanding.

I DON'T CARE ABOUT WHAT ALLEN WAS SAYING, YOU KNOW. I DON'T THINK ANY LESS OF YOU JUST BECAUSE OF YOUR PAST.

"I know, Cas, I know."

And he truly did.


	7. Will You Still Call Me Batman?

Two months had passed by since Dean had arrived at Blue Grass, and he had made a surprising amount of progress. He finally had an official diagnosis and he was being medicated accordingly. He had his mood swings and his anger under control; he was feeling good. That is, until Dr. Perri awarded him visitation privileges. Apparently she had given Sam a call on Dean's behalf, thinking she was doing him a favor. Sam, and Dean's father John, were going to be visiting him that very weekend.

This sent Dean into a panicked, aggressive frenzy for the remainder of the week. He snapped at anyone who attempted to talk to him, even Castiel and Kim. By Saturday morning, his nerves were completely fried.

"Who does she think she is, inviting my family here without my permission? She's read my files! She knows we don't get along!" Dean spat, pacing the floor in front of his bed. Castiel sat at the foot of his own, his eyes following Dean.

SHE THOUGHT SHE WAS HELPING.

"Well, she wasn't! You know what's gonna happen when they get here? We're gonna sit down, and Sam is gonna look at me like I'm some pathetic head case. He's going to ask me how I'm doing, really quiet, like he's defusing a bomb. And he'll keep making small talk, 'cause he feels like he has to, until my dad or I snap. Then they'll leave and I won't see them 'till I get out or until I get sent to a new place."

PERHAPS THIS TIME WILL BE DIFFERENT?

"No, Cas, it won't be, because it never is. If it was just me and Sammy, then maybe… But my dad… God, he ruins everything he touches."

Dean stopped pacing now, his head in his hands. "What am I gonna do?"

There was a soft knock at the door, Anna standing there smiling halfheartedly. "Your brother and your dad are here. Do you want me to bring them back here, or put them in the visitation room?"

"Oh God, don't bring them in here. I'll be out in a minute," Dean groaned. Anna nodded and then disappeared down the hall.

"Cas, if I don't come back, assume my father murdered me."

DO YOU WANT ME TO COME WITH YOU?

"No, no, I'm a grown ass man. I can handle this myself. It's just one little visit, right? I just have to deal with them for an hour, two tops. I can do this."

Dean shook out his shoulders, trying to rid himself of some of the tension. He looked Cas dead in the eyes, a determined look on his face, before heading out the door. The second he walked into the visitation room, Dean spotted Sam. He was hunched over in a chair in the corner. He towered over everyone else in the room. His face lit up when he caught sight of Dean.

"Hey, Dean! Over here!" Sam called, waving him over excitedly. Dean grinned at his brother's enthusiasm.

"Hey Sammy," he said, taking a seat. "Hi Dad."

John grunted a hello.

"So how ya been?" Sam asked, still smiling. "This place is nice!"

"Yeah, it's not too shabby. The food's good, and I've been good. How about you? How's Stanford?"

"Oh, it's great! Been working really hard in school, and I've been getting extra hours at the store. I made it onto the dean's list this semester, so that's pretty cool. Oh, and I met a girl. Her name is Jessica. We've been dating for about two months now."

"That's awesome! Congrats!"

"Thanks! So what about you? Made any friends?" Sam asked, shifting in his seat.

"Well, I haven't met any hot chicks, if that's what you mean. But my roommate is pretty cool, I guess."

"Yeah? What's he like?"

"His name is Castiel; weird, I know. But he's a cool guy. He doesn't really talk, just writes everything down. Even so, he's a pretty funny dude. He's super smart and really good at ping pong. He's an amazing artist too."

"Sounds impressive," John commented sarcastically. "Could he be any more of a pansy?"

"Dad," Sam warned, throwing John a look. "Be nice." John rolled his eyes.

"So, your doctor tells me they finally figured out what's wrong with your head," John stated. Now it was Dean's turn to roll his eyes. "What are they calling it?"

"It's called borderline personality disorder," Dean replied tiredly.

"What does that mean?" Sam inquired.

"It means your brother is a nut case, just like he's always been."

"Dad, I mean it! Knock it off!" Sam snapped.

"What the point, Sammy?" Dean sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Just come out with it, Dad. I know you wanna say it."

"Dean—" Sam tried.

"No, Dad, go ahead. I know what you're gonna say. May as well be up front about it."

"All I'm saying is, I'm sick of wasting my money," John began. "This is the first place that's actually been able to tell me what's wrong with you. They keep you for a few months, and then what? You come home and try to kill yourself!"

"Dad!" Sam interjected.

"No, Sam, he needs to hear this. Either get your shit together or just off yourself already, because I'm over these places wasting my time and my hard earned cash!"

"It's not like I can just turn it off!" Dean shouted, taking a stand. "Don't you think I would if I could? I'm so sick of doing this to you and Sam, but damn, I hate myself so much that I wanna die and you're telling me to get over it or just kill myself? Do you really have to wonder why I'm such a mess?"

"Oh no, boy, don't you turn this around on me! It's not my fault you refuse to get a handle on your sanity!" John yelled back, rising from his chair as well.

"Dad, Dean, just stop!" Sam pleaded.

"You're the one who screwed me up! I was a child and you expected me to be perfect. You had me practically raising Sam so you could chase some tail! Women were more important to you than your own damn kids!"

"That's enough!" Sam exclaimed, slamming his fists down on the arms of his chair. "Just stop fighting! This is getting us nowhere."

"What kind of Dad leaves his eight year old son to take care of his baby brother while he's off on a weeklong bender?!"

"I had to get away from you somehow! Every time I look at you, Dean, all I see it your mother burning in our house. If it weren't for you, she'd still be alive!"

That was Dean's breaking point. He grabbed his chair and tossed it across the room. It hit the wall and fell to pieces on the floor.

"Fuck you, Dad!" Dean screamed. "Fuck you!"

He stormed out of the room, blowing past Castiel who had been watching from outside. He took off running, hot angry tears streaking down his face. He didn't want to ever face Cas again, not after what he'd surely just witnessed. Dean was sure his best friend would never be able to look at him the same way.


	8. Apologies

After giving Dean a few hours to cool down, Castiel risked creeping into their room. Dean sat on his bed, his back to Castiel and his eyes trained on the window. Castiel hesitated in the doorway, waiting for Dean to notice him. He coughed noisily to alert Dean to his presence.

"I know it's you, Cas. Just go away. I really don't feel like playing paper toss tight now."

Castiel scowled, uncertain of how to proceed. He was not lacking in empathy, but his capacity to comfort others left much to be desired. Did Dean truly wish to be left alone, or was this a test? Was Dean shoving Castiel away in hopes that Cas cared enough to stay? Friendship worked in mysterious ways that Castiel did not understand.

Castiel settled on kneeling down beside Dean's bed and resting what he hoped to be a reassuring hand on Dean's leg.

"I appreciate you trying to help, I really do, but nothing you can write will fix this. I know what you must think; I'm a suicidal mess, a poster boy for daddy issues. You don't have to pretend it doesn't bother you," Dean uttered softly. "I know how pathetic I am."

Castiel shook his head helplessly, wishing Dean would look his way, for his eyes said it all. He thought no less of Dean because of what John had said. He didn't care that Dean was broken and covered in more than his fair share of scars. He only wanted to help his friend, to raise him from the darkness, but Dean wasn't giving him a chance to convey any such sentiment. His emerald eyes were still intently gazing out the window, leaving Castiel powerless.

Never before had Castiel been so frustrated with his own silence. Never had his vow felt so constricting and suffocating. All the words were there, if only he could open his mouth and speak! The irritation and chagrin began to build into a choking, powerful force that threatened to burst Castiel open. He had to find some way to communicate, to let Dean know he didn't find him to be pathetic. He had to grab hold of Dean before he lost him forever.

"I'm sorry." Castiel's voice came out quiet, strong, and strikingly low. "I'm so sorry you feel that way."

Dean turned slowly to look at Castiel, his eyes as round as saucers. His mouth was agape in shock.

"W-What?" Dean asked shakily. "What did you just say?"

"I said I am sorry you feel that way," Castiel repeated, this time louder. "Personally, I do not think you are pathetic. I think you show great strength by persevering when you had every right to give up. "

They sat in the ensuing silence for a few moments while Dean digested the words Castiel had spoken, that Castiel spoken at all in fact.

"Did you just break two decades of silence to tell me that?"

"I believe I did, yes."

"Wow, okay, um, forgive me if I don't quite know how to respond to that," Dean replied. Castiel nodded understandingly.

"I realize this must be quite… surprising for you. I know it is quite a surprise to myself. But just take away from this that I see you no differently, and that I feel no pity for you. Empathy, plenty. But sympathy or pity? Absolutely not."

"I… er…. Thanks, Cas. Your voice is a bit lower than I imagined," Dean commented.

"I cannot say it didn't surprise me as well. I wonder if it's from lack of use, or if it's simply how I sound?"

"I don't know, but my theory that your embarrassment of being an Alvin sound-a-like leading to you being mute doesn't seem to be so likely anymore."

"I do not understand that reference," Castiel said, cocking his head in curiosity. "Who is this Alvin and why would I sound like him?"

"Never mind, Cas, never mind. But uh, is this going to be a thing now? You talking?"

"I don't… I don't know. Before now, speaking seemed to be useless. It seemed to do nothing but encourage people I disliked to interact with me. Now that it had proven to have other uses, however, I may have to reconsider my silence. I quite enjoy being able to communicate with you in this way. "Dean grinned at this. "Besides, it is much easier to threaten Allen when I do not have to count on his literacy."

"Calm down there, tiger. I don't need you to get locked up in solitary again. Anyhow, after the last incident we had with him, I don't think Allen will be bothering us for a while. You got him good."

"I did not want to resort to violence, but I could not allow Allen to spout that nonsense. He had no right to break into your records," Castiel grumbled.

"Yeah, alright, he had it coming that time. But you don't need to worry about him getting to me, alright? He can say whatever he wants, 'cause the worst has already happened and I'm still here, aint I?"

"I must admit, this is true. However, it is not Allen's business to be spreading your personal file information around the hospital. I am not aware of the circumstances of the other patients' admittances and I would have rather not known yours unless you made me aware of them yourself."

"It's alright, Cas. I would have ended up telling you eventually. And besides, that's not even the whole story. Either he didn't get to read the whole file, or you knocked him on his ass before he could finish his little 'share and care.' Any which way, there's still more I'll tell you myself, one day" Dean concluded.

"You wish to share such information with me?"

"One day, Castiel, I hope you know the whole story. I hope I get to tell you everything and that you'll tell me everything too."

What Dean didn't tell Castiel was that he hoped he wouldn't run away once he knew the whole truth.


	9. Speaking Has Its Benefits

The following day, Dean spent a majority of his time in Dr. Perri's office discussing the horrific visit from his father and brother. He had to explain what happened and how things had escalated to a yelling match. He left out the bit about Cas talking, as he wasn't sure that little phenomenon was going to continue. He simply said that Castiel had comforted him and he was feeling much better today.

"I must say, Dean, I am rather impressed with how you are handling the situation. Obviously that was not the outcome I was hoping for when I invited them here to visit, but you are really keeping a good outlook on things. Perhaps next time there won't be any yelling, and you and your father can enjoy a nice, civilized conversation," Dr. Perri said hopefully.

"I don't know about that, but I called Sammy this morning and he was glad to hear from me. I feel so bad, putting him in the middle of all this. He always gets pulled into our fights. God, when I told my Dad I was going off to Iraq, he totally dragged Sam into it, telling me how much he needed me and how someone had to look after him. I almost stayed home because of that. Sometimes I wish I had."

"You do realize that Sam is not your responsibility, that he is a grown man, correct?"

"Well, now he is, yeah," Dean agreed. "But back when I enlisted, he was still in high school. He needed someone to look after him, to protect him, to teach him how to stand on his own two feet. And I left him high and dry."

"Why was it on your shoulders to be there for Sam in such a big way?"

"Because if I wasn't, who else would be? After Mom died, Dad went on a bender, still is on one, and if I hadn't stepped up and taken care of Sammy, who knows where he would be. I cleaned up his cuts and bruises, I helped him with his math homework, I taught him how to ride a bike, and I cooked our meals and tucked him in at night. No matter what town Dad dragged us to, I made sure Sam went to the best school available. I was all he had and I left him." Dean's voice started to shake with regret and his shoulders began to tremble. "And here I am, dragging him down with all this stupid crap. Why can't I just get over it?"

"War isn't something you 'just get over' Dean. It's a lot of pain and trauma you have to learn how to live with. Raising Sam was not on you, and you did not fail him by enlisting. You set a great example by graduating and choosing to defend your country. Don't blame yourself for that," Dr. Perri reasoned. "Besides, it seems that Sam is doing pretty well for himself. Didn't you say he's going to Stanford? And that he has a girlfriend? It seems to me that he's pretty successful, thanks to you."

Dean shrugged him shoulders. He'd never really thought of it that way. Sam was doing alright; he was going to one of the best schools in the nation, and he'd found a girl that made him happy. That was a lot to be proud of, Dean figured. He still couldn't help but to harbor guilt over leaving Sam behind, though. Not after what he saw in Iraq. If his time overseas had taught him anything, it was how important family really was.

"I guess you might be right," Dean amended tiredly. He was sick of discussing this.

"Well, I would love to dig further into your psyche, but it seems that it is time for Group. Care to join me?"

Dean and Dr. Perri were the last ones to enter the group therapy room. Everyone else had taken their usual spots, leaving a seat between Castiel and Kim for Dean. Dr. Perri took the remaining chair between Allen and Tim before clearing her throat to start.

"Good evening everyone! I hope you all had a productive day. We don't have any new patients to introduce today, so let's get right down to business. Who would like to share?"

As usual, Allen raised his hand to volunteer and launched into a monotonous, detailed story about his day's adventures. They continued around the circle in a clockwise order so that everyone could share. Jenny had spent the day knitting, no surprise there, and the new guy, Kevin, had been studying math. Kevin was a high school student who had been admitted for having a nervous breakdown during his SATs. He suffered from OCD.

Then came Castiel's turn. Everyone turned to look at him expectantly, waiting for him to pull out his journal and write. He cast Dean a nervous look, to which Dean smiled encouragingly. Castiel could do this. He could speak now, he didn't need his journal.

"My day was… good," Castiel murmured. Dr. Perri choked on the soda she was sipping.

"E-Excuse me?" She whispered incredulously.

"My day was good. I painted, mostly."

"Castiel, um, when did you start, you know, talking?!" Tim asked, panicked.

"Yesterday. Dean was upset with the outcome of his father's visitation and I felt the need to console him, as he is a friend of mine. Is that so strange?"

"Coming from you, yes," Allen said, his eyes wide.

"Castiel, may I see you in my office? Dustin, stand in for me until I get back," Dr. Perri said, getting up to leave. Castiel followed.

Once they were inside her office, Dr. Perri closed the door behind Castiel and ushered him to his seat. She stood in front of her desk, staring at him. When he offered no explanation, she sighed and asked "Care to explain what just happened?"

"I shared vocally for the first time," was Castiel's dull reply. Dr. Perri rolled her eyes.

"Well, obviously. But why?"

"I already explained that. Dean was upset and as his friend, it was my duty to comfort him."

"But why did you choose to speak now? Plenty of people have been upset before yesterday, and yet you never raised your voice."

"Because none of them were my friends. Up until Dean's arrival, I preferred my solidarity. Now I am not so sure. I see a lot of usefulness in having relationships with other people, and speaking has its benefits. There are certain things a change in tone can convey that writing never could, such as empathy, which are instrumental in consolation."

"I think you may have just had what I call a break through, Castiel," Dr. Perri stated breathlessly. "I never thought I'd see the day where you spoke."

"Me either."

"Well, if Dean is the inspiration behind your broken silence, I am glad he came here. Plenty of doctors have labeled both of you as lost causes, but I think I found a solution to both your situations, and that is the trust you have in one another." Dr. Perri paused to grin. "There is so much light in your future, Castiel. And in Dean's too. This friendship of yours has proven to be quite healing for the both of you."

And though Castiel didn't say it aloud, he did agree. Their friendship had healed him in ways he'd never hoped.


	10. Break Through

"Good morning, Castiel" Dr. Perri trilled. "I apologize for the early morning session, but I wanted to follow up on last night's break through. How are you feeling?"

"I feel fine," Castiel replied.

"Good, good! Where would you like to start today?"

"I don't know. Where ever you would like, I suppose."

Dr. Perri grinned, as if that was the response she was hoping for. "Alright, well, we know what broke your silence, correct? But we don't really know what brought it on." Castiel opened his mouth to argue, but Dr. Perri just waved a hand at him. "Don't you go telling me I've read your files like it's an excuse not to talk about it, Castiel. I need to hear things from your perspective. All I've got is a halfhearted account from your brother to go on. You have to give me something."

Castiel closed his mouth and gave a slight nod.

"Okay, so, what lead up to your admittance to Bridgeway's psyche ward?" Dr. Perri prodded.

"I had what medical professionals, such as yourself, call a mental break. I destroyed half of my house before Gabriel returned and restrained me." Castiel's voice was matter of fact and emotionless. The answer felt very rehearsed.

"What caused the break? Do you know?"

"There wasn't one simple cause to blame it on. It was everything: the bullying, the obliviousness, the incredibly high standards that my father had set for me… I couldn't take anymore. I caved, I broke, I screwed up, and it lead to that… episode."

Dr. Perri nodded, taking careful notes. "Your father, you've never mentioned him before. Tell me about him."

"There isn't much to tell. He's your average absent father; he was rarely around, but when he was, he expected perfection. Straight A's, clean rooms, immaculate appearances, everything. For a while, I was almost all of that. I did my best to impress him, to get his attention, but the only time he paid me any mind was when I made a mistake. And trust me, you didn't want that type of attention."

"How did your father punish you for your mistakes?" Dr. Perri inquired gently.

"Several ways. Belts, wooden spoons, the works. He locked me in my bedroom for three days straight, once, because I accidently broke a glass while doing the dishes. He had quite the temper, especially if he had been drinking."

"How about your siblings? What was your relationship like with them?"

"It was alright, I suppose. Gabriel and Michael, my older brothers, kept an eye out for me. And Lucifer always made sure to drop by when Father wasn't around. I did all I could to look out for Balthazar and Uriel, since they were my younger brothers. Balthazar and I were by far the closest. He used to visit, but I think he got fed up with me ignoring him. He still sends me a birthday card every year, though," Castiel recalled fondly.

"What about Lucifer? You said he only dropped by. Why didn't he live there with the rest of you?"

"Father kicked him out when I was still rather young. Lucifer was quite rebellious. Though he loved our father very much, he thought Father was much too controlling. All I remember of him living with us is that there was a lot of confrontation and raised voices. It was probably for the best that Lucifer left."

"What did you think of your father's rules?"

"He had… He had his reasons for being so strict. I mean, after all, he had six children to care for. Sometimes he was a bit excessive, sure, but looking after all of us was hard. Gabriel and Balthazar were nightmares, and Michael and I always butted heads… He did the best he could. I deserved what he gave me. I didn't wreak havoc like Gabriel did, and I didn't outright rebel like Lucifer, but what I did was almost worse. I never quite obeyed. I never quite did what I was told."

"He'd give me an order, and depending on how I felt about said order, I would choose whether or not to follow. Before I was admitted here, I was in danger of being thrown out like Lucifer had been. I'd broken one of my father's most important rules."

"And what rule was that?"

Castiel fidgeted uncomfortably in his chair. He looked to the floor for answers, scanned for guidance in the carpet fibers.

"I… I fell in love. Father had a rule that we were not allowed to socialize, much less date, anyone from outside our church. Even then, he had to meet them and give them the once over," Castiel explained. "Anyone who didn't meet his standards was black listed, and the girl I fell in love with… She was far from anything my father would have approved of."

"What was she like?" Dr. Perri pressed.

"She was something of a 'bad girl.' She drank, she partied, and she dressed far from conservatively. She was everything my father had warned me against, and I was absolutely enthralled by her. I never thought… I never thought she would pay me any attention. Meg, she was so beautiful and interesting and dangerous, and I was, well… me."

Castiel paused to grin bitterly. Reliving his memories with Meg proved to be quite painful.

"Anyhow, somehow we ended up together. I'd sneak out just about every night to meet her at the park by my house. We'd drink whiskey and talk… it was nice. But what I didn't know was that Michael had been following us, and after a fight he and I had, he ended up telling Father. He was beyond furious. I was already walking the line when I got my end of semester report. All the nights out with Meg had taken a toll on my grades. I was failing just about every class. I guess that was my breaking point. I felt like such a failure, like such a screw up, I guess I just snapped."

"How does all of that equate to becoming mute?" Dr. Perri wondered.

"Once my father came home and saw the mess I had made, I tried to apologize. I was still totally unstable, though, and the words wouldn't come out right. I kept stuttering and fumbling over my words… Finally, Father just said 'If you cannot even apologize properly, do not speak at all!' I decided after destroying my home and breaking all of his rules, I could follow this one order. So I did."

Dr. Perri stared at Castiel, sorrow and sympathy glowing in her eyes.

"Castiel, you cannot control who you love. And your father never should have put so much pressure on you. You're a good man."

Castiel shook his head. "I have done nothing but make your life difficult, Dr. Perri, and yet you defend me."

"You have done more than make my life difficult! You've tested my patience and made me want to rip my hair out, but Castiel, you have been my most rewarding case! You went from being a mute, uncooperative loner to this beautiful and brilliant man. You make amazing art, you speak eloquently and intelligently, and you have forged a fantastic friendship with Dean. I couldn't be more proud of you!" Dr. Perri exclaimed honestly.

"Really?"

"Yes, Castiel, really! You've come so far, and I can't help but to be proud of you. So many people told me when I took your case that I would never see improvement in you, but not only do I see progress, I see the potential for you to live a life outside of these hospital walls. I think that you could be free of all the things that have been plaguing you for years! Why don't you see the same potential in yourself?"

"I just… I don't think I could do all that. I've failed so many times before, who says I won't fail again?"

"It's never too late to make things right, Castiel. You can always try again."

In the moment, the little glimmer of hope Castiel had been keeping alive sparked into a raging fire. Perhaps he could have a life outside of a mental institution, perhaps he could have a house and a job of his own. Better yet, maybe he really could have control over the way he lived and who he was friends with. Maybe he could finally make his own rules.

"You honestly believe I can do that?"

"I know you can."

If Dr. Perri had such hope in his future, Castiel thought, then he could too. He was going to leave this place, once and for all.


	11. Inspiration

This is what Castiel enjoyed most about his day: the opportunity to create. If only he had occupational therapy all day, so he could waste his time away on peaceful painting and stress-free drawing. Even better were the days, like today, that Dean decided to join him.

They would work in silence mostly, enjoying each other's presence while working on their own projects. Once in a while Castiel would ask Dean to pass him a brush or Dean would comment on Castiel's painting, but mostly, they felt comfortable with the lull in conversation. They didn't need words to bring comfort; simply being was enough.

Now, however, was one of the rare moments where Castiel broke the quiet. "I am having an artist's block," he stated, his pencil hovering over the canvas.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, not taking his eyes off of the dream catcher he was making.

"I mean I do not know what to draw."

"Why not draw a house or some fruit or something?"

"No, no, I prefer people. People feel, and have expression and emotion. They are much more interesting, not to mention challenging."

"There you go, draw a person, then."

"You do not understand, Dean!" Castiel sighed, frustrated. "I need some inspiration… perhaps a model of some sort?"

"Yeah, sure, a model," Dean agreed, his attention elsewhere.

"So you'll be my model then?" Castiel asked. Dean looked up for the first time, his expression radiating annoyance.

"Cas, no, that's not what I was saying," he protested.

"All you will have to do is sit there and look pretty. You're plenty good at that, aren't you?" Castiel tagged on a quirky half smile to soften the blow of his sarcastic joke. Dean scowled.

"Can't you just draw me while I work?"

"No, I want to get a proper study of you, and I can only do so if you are unoccupied. You can suspend your dream catcher duties for one little hour, can't you?" Castiel pleaded.

"A whole hour?"

"Please, Dean?"

"Fine," Dean agreed, sighing in defeat. "You've got one hour, nothing more!"

Castiel nodded excitedly. "Yes, one hour should be sufficient."

Dean set his dream catcher down and settled back in his chair. "So what do I do?"

"Just sit there and look pretty."

"Come on, man, that's boring!" Dean whined.

"We can continue to converse if that brings you any entertainment," Castiel said, setting to work. His pencil scratched away at the canvas.

"I can't believe I'm letting you treat me like one of your French girls, Jack."

"We have been through this before, Dean: My name is Castiel and I do not understand your references."

Dean chuckled at this, amused by how literal Castiel always was. He enjoyed throwing in the occasional pop culture reference just so he could see Castiel cock his head in confusion like a lost puppy.

"What am I even supposed to look at, anyhow?"

"The floor, the wall, at Dustin's posterior, I don't care!" Castiel exclaimed, still working intently. Dean snorted.

"Someone is a grumpy artist. A little bipolar, Van Gogh?"

"As far as I am aware, no, I do not suffer from the disorder known as bipolar manic depression. Van Gogh did, however, and it ultimately lead to his suicide. Forgive me if I do not see the humor in this situation."

"Woah there, Cas, I didn't mean to offend you," Dean offered, holding his palms up in peace. Castiel looked up at him with hard eyes, only to have them soften at Dean's truly apologetic expression. He pursed his lips.

"I know."

"You're pretty serious about this art stuff, huh?"

"Yes. It is my main means of "self-expression" as Dr. Perri says."

"If you do this to express yourself, then why are you drawing me?"

Castiel paused for a moment, his pencil suspended, considering the question. "I needed practice on male faces," he answered lamely.

"Fine, okay, fair enough."

Castiel continued to work as the conversation faded, his sketch beginning to take shape. He spent a large majority of his allotted time perfecting Dean's eyes. It was his favorite feature to draw of any person, but especially Dean. There was something open about his glowing, jade irises and his blown wide pupils. They shimmered with an honesty that Castiel struggled to capture.

"Why is it that you make dream catchers?" Cas asked after a long silence. He was nearing the end of his hour.

"When I was a kid, my dad told me the legend, you know, that they catch bad dreams. And my brother, he used to have nightmares all the time, so whenever I got the chance, I would make him one. It was my way of protecting him, even when he was asleep.

"So now it is just habit?"

"Er… well, no. I actually noticed that you toss and turn in your sleep a lot, so I've been making a few for you. I'm a bit rusty, though, so the first few didn't come out great. That one I was working on when you and Allen got into it turned out okay, if you still want it."

Dean shifted in his chair, scratching at the back of his neck. Castiel could tell he was embarrassed.

"I would love it, thank you," he assured Dean.

"Okay, cool," Dean responded, breathy. His grin was warm and nervous. Castiel smiled fondly back.

"Your portrait is done, if you'd like to see it."

"It's been an hour already?!"

"A little over, actually," Castiel informed him, turning the canvas so Dean could see. "What do you think?"

To Dean, words could not describe his awe. Not a single line seemed to be out of place. It was almost as if he was looking into a mirror. In the drawing, he was smiling harshly, almost sarcastically, but his eyes were… soft, and open. The skin around his eyes was crinkled in happiness, and his laugh lines were very obvious. The picture read as bitter sweet.

"Wow," was all Dean could manage.

"That bad? I mean, I know I didn't quite get your nose right, and something about your hairline—"

"Shut up," Dean interrupted. "Just shut up. This is awesome."

Castiel sat back, closing his mouth obediently. He watched expectantly as Dean continued to study his work.

"God, Cas, you're so talented. This is amazing. Words cannot do it justice… just, wow."

Castiel couldn't help but crack a cheeky smile. Dean's kind words fed his pride, making him feel warm and content. He could still find a thousand flaws, but if Dean enjoyed it, he would not voice them. He was glad to see Dean's face slack with wonder.

"You really like it?" Cas asked shyly.

"Like it? I love it. Can I keep it?"

"Of course."

Dean picked up the canvas, still smiling, and set it down beside the table. He rummaged through his dream catcher box for a moment before pulling out Castiel's favorite, the one with the jet black feathers and the turquoise beads. He handed it to Cas, pressing it into his palm.

"Take this, then. Now we both have something new to hang on the wall."

That night, after dinner and Group, the boys hung their respective gifts on their walls. Castiel hung the dream catcher above his bed as instructed, and Dean hung his portrait over their dresser. The strange mix of rock posters and fine art suited them.

After working on a few sketches and finishing a few Metallica albums, it was time for lights out. Castiel settled into his bed, waiting for sleep to claim him.

"Cas?" Dean whispered just as Castiel was about to doze off.

"Yes?"

"We should have occupational therapy together every day."

"I'll see what I can work out with Dr. Perri."

"Kay."

Not long after, Castiel heard Dean begin to snore. How could he just drop off like that, he wondered. Castiel's mind was still busy processing and thinking and creating. He had thousands of ideas buzzing around in his mind. If it weren't for the lights out rule, he would be up painting or drawing. He had the overwhelming urge to draw Dean again, to portray him as he was now: peaceful and unaware. Perhaps in the morning…

"Castiel," Dean breathed, still sleeping.

"Yes?" Castiel answered, unaware of his roommate's unconsciousness. Dean did not answer, but instead rolled over and kicked his legs out from beneath his blanket.

"Cas," he murmured again, relaxing.

"Goodnight Dean." Castiel hugged his pillow to his chest, glancing over at Dean's blanketed silhouette. He would have to inform him of his sleep talking habits.

It wasn't long before Castiel dozed off himself. For once he suffered no nightmares and stirred but once when Dean called his name. It seemed that Dean was truly looking over him, even as he slept.


	12. A Little Brother's Love

In the next few weeks, Castiel finally received a phone call. In his entire time at Blue Grass, he hadn't had one person try to contact him, but since he had started to speak again, he'd been expecting someone to. Though Dr. Perri never told him so, Castiel knew she sent progress reports to Balthazar (he'd seen them sitting out on her desk on occasion) and he knew she would want to share the big news with him. He suspected that Balthazar didn't check them very regularly anymore, though, since it took him so long to call. Castiel had almost given up hope that Balthazar cared about his progress at all when Anna paged him down to the nurses' station and handed him the phone.

"Hello?" Castiel answered cautiously.

"Oh my, Cassie!" Balthazar exclaimed. "Who would've guessed that your doctor was telling the truth?"

"Hello Balthazar," Castiel said, rolling his eyes. "Good to hear from you."

"You as well, my brother! I honestly thought I'd never hear that voice of yours again! It's quite a bit lower than I remember."

"Yes, that is part of what they call puberty."

"Ah, still sarcastic as ever, I see! I really have missed that wit. How have you been?"

"Better, obviously. Dr. Perri is on the brink of diagnosing me, which brings me several steps closer to release."

"Release? Really? They're talking about letting you leave?"

"Not anytime soon," Castiel replied. "But it is an option now."

"Wow, that's fantastic! I remember when they said you would never speak again, and now look at you: walking, talking, and on the road to recovery at last! What brought on such a huge change?" Balthazar inquired.

"I don't know," Castiel answered dimly. He heard Balthazar scoff.

"Yes, you broke two decades of silence without being aware of the catalyst. Come now, Castiel, do not take me for a fool. Was it a girl? It was a girl, wasn't it?"

"No."

"A boy then?" Balthazar pressed. Castiel hesitated a moment too long, causing Balthazar to pounce. "Oh it is a boy! So come on then, what's his name?"

"Balthazar, please," Castiel tried, attempting to steer away from the topic.

"I just want to know his name. And how you met him. Is he a patient? Of course he's a patient! Unless he's not. Unless he's a nurse! Or better yet, a doctor! That's scandalous. Castiel, you naughty—"

"Stop!" Castiel interjected. "Just stop. He's not a doctor, nor is he a nurse. He's my roommate, and he is just my friend, okay? His name is Dean Winchester, and that is all you need to know."

"Dean Winchester, eh? He sounds like one of those bad boys from the movies. I like it. So when do I get to meet your new boyfriend?"

"What? Never! And he most certainly is not my boyfriend."

"Sure, Cassie, sure. But I will be meeting him, and soon too. It's your birthday next week, remember? You don't think I'd miss your birthday, do you?" Balthazar cooed.

"You've missed it every other year."

"Only because you weren't speaking to me! Or anyone else, for that matter. And I sent you cards. I never forgot."

"Yes, I know, but—"

"So it's settled then! I'll see you next Thursday! Goodbye Cassie, love you!"

"Balthazar!"

"Kisses! Mwah!"

And then the line went dead. Castiel considered calling back and telling Balthazar that he couldn't come, but it would do him no good. His mischievous little brother was coming to visit and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He was doomed.

*****

"When's your brother gonna get here?" Dean asked, lounging on his bed. He was tossing a hacky sack into the air over and over again, and it was driving Castiel mad.

"I don't know," Cas replied. He was sitting at the foot of Dean's bed, trying to remain calm. He had no idea what to expect from this visit. Would it be pleasant and calm? Would Balthazar take the opportunity to unload his thoughts and qualms onto Castiel? Was it just Balthazar, or was Michael accompanying him? Worse yet, would his father be there? Castiel tapped his foot anxiously while pondering these questions.

"You seem nervous. Do you want me to come with you?"

"Oh God, no! I don't need Balthazar saying something stupid to make me look bad. That's what he's best at. Any time he meets any of my associates, he makes some asinine remark or tells some horrifically embarrassing story."

"That's what little brothers are for! Besides, I don't really think he can say much to phase me. You saw the psychotic meltdown with my dad; I think I can handle some bogus kindergarten stories."

"Dean—"

"Come on, man! You haven't seen him in years and you're totally strung out on anxiety. You need me for moral support and you know it."

"Fine!" Castiel caved. "You can come, but only if you promise to never repeat anything Balthazar tells you."

"You act like he knows something of national importance, not just some stupid baby stories."

"Just promise."

"Okay, okay. I promise," Dean said, holding his hand over his heart. Castiel opened his mouth to threaten Dean, to say he would murder him if he broke their promise, but he stopped at the sound of heels clicking on linoleum. He'd know the sound of Balthazar's boots anywhere.

"Well hello, Cassie!" Balthazar bellowed, bursting into the room. "Come here and give your little brother a hug."

Castiel grimaced but did as he was asked. Balthazar about squeezed the life out of him before letting go and pulling back to study his brother.

"My, my, aren't you all grown up! It's been, what, eight years since I last saw you? Nine? And you finally don't look like a hobo! You clean up rather well, actually."

"Thank you," Castiel replied awkwardly.

"So, are you going to introduce me to your boyfriend or am I going to have to do it myself?"

"For the last time, Balthazar, he is not my—"

"I'm Dean," said Dean, sticking his hand out. Balthazar took it and shook it firmly. "It's nice to finally meet ya, man. Cas has said lots about you."

"Mostly bad things, I'm sure." Balthazar's voice was harsh, but his grin betrayed him. "I'm Balthazar, by the way."

"Yeah, I assumed. Cas has been kinda stressed about you visiting, but seems like you two get along just fine." Castiel smacked the back of Dean's arm, glaring at him. "What? You were stressed out! Just before he got here, you were trying not to bounce off the walls!"

"Is that true, 'Cas'? I quite like that nickname. Did you start that one, Dean?"

"Yeah, Castiel is kind of a mouthful, and I could already tell he didn't like Cassie."

"Could you please not talking about me as if I am not present?" Castiel growled. Dean shot him a look.

"C'mon, Cas, relax. Your brother drove all the way here to see you; you can't keep that stick up your ass and expect this visit to be fun. You gotta chill out."

"I have no such thing inserted in my anus!" Castiel cried indignantly. Balthazar and Dean snickered.

"It is just a saying, brother," Balthazar laughed. Castiel's cheeks flushed crimson and he frowned angrily. It was just like these two to humiliate him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Dean apologized, still chuckling. "I feel like we're picking on you."

Castiel pursed his lips and sighed. He'd have to put up with at least an hour of this mess. By the end of it, Dean would have all sorts of dirt to embarrass him with. God knew he would probably never be able to look him in the eye again.

"But honestly, Castiel," Balthazar began. "I am proud of you. I know you had a lot to overcome, and for me to be able to joke with you like this is wonderful. I never thought I'd hear one of your naive responses ever again. It's nice to have something to make fun of you for once more."

This made the heat in Castiel's cheeks fade. His brother wasn't trying to upset him, and he knew that. He just had to remember that this was how Balthazar showed affection. He was a trouble maker and a joker, but definitely not an intentional bully.

"Thank you," Castiel muttered, genuinely grateful. "That… That means a lot to me."

"That's enough with the chick flick moments," Dean decided. "Give me some dirt on Cas!"

Balthazar launched into his favorite tale, the one about the Christmas program. When Castiel was in the fourth grade, he was chosen to play Joseph in their church's Christmas play. He felt very honored to have such an important part and he took the role very seriously. He got the most realistic costume possible, complete with a threadbare robe and broken down leather sandals. On opening night he walked on stage and began his lines… unaware that his robe had come undone. The entire congregation saw his Batman boxers, and he wasn't made aware of the wardrobe malfunction until after the curtain dropped. All of the parents found it to be adorable, but Castiel was mortified. He sat in the back of the church for years, just to avoid his peers.

Balthazar shared a few other stories, most of them memories he shared with Castiel from their childhood. He told Dean about when they would go camping, and how Castiel would roast marshmallows for him because he was the only one who could get them the right shade of golden brown. He talked about how Castiel taught him to ride a bike, how he would walk him to and from school. Dean enjoyed learning so much about the part of Cas that he didn't know. Castiel wasn't one to share memories from his past, especially not such sentimental ones. It was great to get to know him from another person's perspective.

After a few hours of swapping adventures and memories, Dustin came in and informed them that visiting hours were up. Castiel went to the front desk to sign Balthazar out, and Dean went to follow when Balthazar caught him by the arm.

"I didn't say anything in front of Castiel, because he would throw a royal fit if I did. But today is his birthday, and I think you guys should do something special for him tonight. I left his present up at the front desk, and a couple bucks so one of the orderlies could run out for decorations. He doesn't say it, but birthdays mean a lot to him. Please make it special."

Dean nodded, happy to know that Balthazar trusted him with this task.

"And… thank you for making my brother open up. I can see just by the way he interacts with you, the way he looks at you, that he cares about you an awful lot. Don't let him get hurt, okay? Because he has been hurt enough," Balthazar confided.

"I know. I'll look after him, I promise."

"Good." Balthazar clapped a hand on Dean's shoulder and smiled gently before disappearing out the door.

Dean was glad that Balthazar loved Castiel so much. Dean had assumed since he hadn't come to visit in such a long time, that he had stopped caring about his brother, but he was dead wrong. Balthazar was simply waiting for the opportunity to come back into Castiel's life, and now he'd found it. Dean had to take this chance to prove that he cared about Castiel as well.

Now, what theme should Castiel's surprise birthday party have, Dean wondered.


	13. A Starry Night

"Now, Castiel, I just need your quick opinion on something," Dr. Perri said, sticking her keys in the art room's door. "We're thinking about remodeling this room, and seeing as you have an eye for this sort of thing and you spend a lot of time in here, I thought I'd have you look at some décor before I head home for the night."

Dr. Perri shifted the purse on her shoulder into the crook of her arm before unlocking the door and putting her keys away. Castiel stood waiting expectantly for her to allow him inside.

"Just remember these are not definitive designs; your input with be taken into account." Dr. Perri swung the door open and disappeared into the darkness in one gracious movement. Castiel followed. "Oh, and one more thing, Castiel…" There was a pause before the lights flickered on and everyone in the room shouted a collective "Surprise!"

"Happy birthday!" Dean yelled, stepping forward to slide the string of a party hat under Castiel's chin. He straightened the cardboard cone before giving Cas a quick hug.

Castiel's lips parted in stunned silence and his eyes widened in awe. Twinkling strings of lights dangled from the ceiling, bathing the room in their warm glow. The walls had been freshly painted to a deep shade of blue, with yellow, swirling orbs floating in the darkness. A towering cake stood on a table in the center of the room, an impressive five tiers tall. All of the guests had donned smocks and held brushes; their arms and faces were smudged with paint. His sanctuary, his art room, was now his very own "Starry Night."

"Oh my God," Castiel breathed. "Oh my God."

He brought his shaking hands to his face to cover his mouth in shock. His knees were trembling and his vision was blurring with tears. These people, his friends, had given him a Van Gogh masterpiece of his very own.

"Do you like it?" Dean whispered, putting his arm around Castiel's shoulders. Castiel nodded slowly, closing his eyes.

"It's beautiful. I love it." Castiel turned and pulled Dean into a sudden embrace, burying his head in Dean's shoulder. Dean smiled, pleasantly surprised, and rested a hand on the back of Cas's head. After taking a moment to collect himself, Castiel pulled back and wiped away the tears that had fallen from his eyes. He grinned shakily at Dean before turning to face the rest of the room.

"Thank you so much. I couldn't ask for a better birthday present! This is so wonderful!"

"Birthday present? Please! This is just the decoration for the party! You haven't seen anything yet!" Anna insisted. She took Castiel's hand and pulled him to the middle of the room before the cake. Dr. Perri dragged a step stool over and climbed on it so she could reach the candles. She began to light them as the room started to rumble with the beginnings of "Happy Birthday." Castiel stared at his feet through the entire song, totally embarrassed by being the center of attention in such a way. At the song's end, Kim handed Cas his first present.

"It's nothing too impressive," she cautioned. "But I hope you like it."

He tore open the shiny wrapping paper and ripped the box's top off. Inside was a framed water color painting of the ocean, one of Kim's personal works. She had noticed Castiel admiring it whenever he came to collect her for breakfast in the mornings. He looked up at her, surprised by the gift.

"Kim, I can't take this!" Castiel began.

"No, please, take it. It would mean a lot to me to pass that painting on to a friend. You appreciate it much more than anyone else would, and art is meant to be cherished."

"Thank you." Castiel cradled the painting to his chest. "Thank you so much. It's beautiful."

Next Anna gave him a blue gift bag filled with tissue paper. Once he clawed through the paper, Castiel found an angel plush toy at the bottom. The angel had fiery red hair that matched Anna's very own. He grinned, appreciative of the fact that he would now have his very own miniature Anna to watch out for him. He thanked her quietly.

The gift opening continued, and Castiel got more than he ever dared bargain for. Dr. Perri got him a self-help book (of course), Tim gave him a new sketch book and a set of brushes, Kevin gifted him with a poster of Einstein, Dustin bought him a calendar featuring Van Gogh's most famous works, and even Allen gave him a new pair of socks. The rest of the residents had made a card for him and presented it proudly to him. He was very impressed with the amount of work put into it.

Last but not least was Dean, who held out a black rectangular box to Cas. Castiel took it, looking at it questioningly. What could possibly be inside? Not wanting to waste time guessing, he wrenched the box open, ripping the cardboard in the process. The gift slipped out of the destroyed box into a tan, crumpled heap on the floor. Castiel scooped it up and shook it out to find that it was a long, stiff trench coat. He'd had one once when he was younger and he wore it everywhere, only to lose it when he was admitted for the first time. Much of his clothing had gone missing when his father shipped it up to him at the hospital, but losing that coat had broken his heart. He'd told Dean about it once in passing, and it surprised him that he had remembered.

Castiel pulled the coat on immediately. Being reunited with something from his childhood brought him a strange sense of joy. He smiled broadly at Dean and thanked him for the gift.

"No problem, man, I'm glad you like it!"

Once the presents were done and opened, they moved on to cake and games. They played pin the tail on the donkey, bobbed for apples, and even tried to play Twister. Dean was by far the best at Twister (he was surprisingly flexible) but Castiel dominated at the other two. It was everything that Castiel had never gotten as a child, and he enjoyed every moment. He never thought he'd get to enjoy a party like this, especially not with people he cared about so much.

The night faded quickly, and soon it was time for bed. Everyone went back to their respective rooms, leaving the mess for the morning. Castiel stumbled into their room and flopped onto his bed, trench coat still on. He was exhausted but content.

"Thank you again, Dean, for putting that together," Castiel sighed.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I know you're the one who planned the party. It was a lot of fun, and I appreciate it."

"Anything for you, Cas," Dean muttered sleepily.

For once Castiel dropped off into sleep quickly; his mind and body were too tired to try and keep him awake. He fell asleep smiling, curled up in his trench coat with his Anna doll in his arms.


	14. How Was the Fall?

Castiel stood at the exit, tapping his foot impatiently. He glanced up at the clock, which said it was a quarter past noon. They were supposed to have left fifteen minutes ago, and he was the only one at their designated meeting spot! If there was anything he could honestly say he despised in this world, it was being late.

"Where is everyone?" Dean wondered, wandering up to meet Castiel. "I thought I was going to be the last one to get here."

"What took you so long?" Castiel demanded. "When I left, you said you were going to be right behind."

"I couldn't find my basketball shorts. You forget how long it's been since I've had the opportunity to wear anything besides the ugly sweat pants they give us."

"I think I have an idea."

Castiel shifted his weight, sighing in annoyance. He finally got to leave this damn place and even their chaperone wasn't on time. Of course, Dustin was the orderly in charge of the trip, so it really was no wonder that it was already falling apart. The man couldn't tie his shoes properly, nonetheless herd a group of mentally unstable 'adults' into a van promptly.

"Dustin told us to meet at the front exit at twelve, right?" Dean asked, to which Castiel nodded. "Then why the hell isn't anyone else here yet?"

"Sorry!" Kim exclaimed breathlessly, running towards the boys. "I didn't have any tennis shoes, so I had to borrow a pair from Anna. I didn't mean to be late."

"It's all good, Kimmy. It's not like you're the last one to show up. We're still waiting on Dustin, Allen, George, Kevin, and Alex," Dean explained.

"How do George and Alex already have gym privileges? They only got here, like, two weeks ago," Kim said. Dean shrugged.

"I don't know, but they better hurry their asses up."

After another ten minutes, Dustin sauntered up with the rest of the missing group trailing behind. Dean had to keep from cracking up upon catching sight of Kevin, who had decided red, white, and blue sweat bands were a good fashion statement to make. Everyone else looks relatively normal in t-shirts and shorts.

"Where the hell have you been?!" Castiel exploded. Dustin waved him off, an unconcerned look on his face.

"I had to help these guys find some proper apparel. Most of them didn't even have shoes."

Castiel rolled his eyes at the obvious lie. If Kevin had time to find multicolored sweat bands, then everyone else should have had plenty of time to find a pair of fucking shorts. Dustin had probably been trying to convince another orderly to take his place on the trip; he hated heading these little outings. The only reason he'd agreed to this one was because they weren't going to an arts and crafts store or like library like usual. Dr. Perri had actually approved an expedition to the YMCA.

"Well, I think we've wasted enough time. Everybody into the van!" Dustin commanded. Every one shuffled out the door and piled into the van awaiting them in the hospital's circle drive. Dustin climbed into the driver's seat, counted the patients to make sure everyone had made it in, and they were off.

Castiel wasn't really one for sports or exercise, but Dean seemed so excited at the chance to go to the YMCA, Castiel couldn't turn him down. Since he hadn't played any sports in so long, Castiel was sure that he wouldn't remember the rules, but Dean promised to teach him as they went along. Castiel hoped he would be decent at whatever they decided to play, because he didn't need to embarrass himself. He'd already done enough of that in gym class.

Once they arrived, and Dustin explained that they needed to meet at the front entrance at four, the group scattered. Kim decided to run on the track, Alex and George went off to play racquet ball, Allen wanted to "pump some iron", and Kevin went for a swim. Dean asked Castiel what he wanted to start off with, and Castiel shrugged.

"Whatever you would like to play, Dean. I don't really care much for sports."

"How about basketball? The rules are pretty straight forward, and it's easy enough."

"Sure, why not."

After Dean explained the rules to Castiel, he got a ball from the front desk and they headed into the gym to play a game of one on one. Dean was a bit rusty, but after a few warm up shots, he was feeling good. Things weren't going as well for Castiel, however. In the ten practice shots he had tried, he hadn't made a single one. Dean stepped behind him and grabbed his wrist, guiding his hand into a proper layup and explaining the importance of the movement. Castiel tried again, this time making the shot.

"Good one, Cas! See, I told you it was all in the wrist!"

Castiel smiled, dribbling the ball away. Now the game began in earnest. For a while, Dean was quite a few points in the lead. He would snatch the ball from Castiel the moment that he got the opportunity, and he would throw it into the basket with ease. But soon Castiel learned how to defend himself better and he was making several shots. They were getting to be neck and neck, and the game was getting heated. Castiel wasn't particularly competitive, but he wanted to see Dean's jealous expression when he won, and that drove him into serious gameplay.

Castiel was up in Dean's face, waving his arms to block the ball's path to the basket. Dean tried to get past him, but Castiel moved with him. It didn't take long for Dean to get fed up and as he tried to push past Castiel, he ended up knocking his friend down and tripping in the process. He landed with a dull thud on top of Castiel; they were a tangle of arms and legs. Both of them were sweaty and panting heavily. Dean's eyes came to meet Castiel's, and for a second, his heart came to a halt in his chest. He scrambled to his feet before offering his hand to Castiel to help him up. He looked away, embarrassed, and apologized for knocking Cas down.

"It's… It's fine," Castiel muttered quietly, his cheeks blazing.

"Hey, Winchester! Novak! It's time to shower up! We're leaving in twenty!" Dustin called, poking his head into the gym. Castiel nodded while Dean waved him off.

"We best, uh, head to the locker room then," Castiel said.

"Yeah, right, right," Dean agreed.

They avoided eye contact as they walked to the locker room, and they chose shower stalls on opposite ends of the room. Dean showered quickly, hoping he could get dried off, dressed, and back into the van before Castiel left his stall. He had just pulled on his shorts when Castiel wandered in with only a towel around his waist. Castiel's stomach was surprisingly toned, with a light track of hair that started at his belly button and disappeared into his towel. Dean's heart shuddered to a stop again before running in double time. He didn't realize he was staring until Castiel cleared his throat. Dean turned around to pull on his shoes and hide his now flaming face. Did it just become suddenly hot in here, Dean thought to himself.

Much to Dustin's surprise, Castiel and Dean were the last to arrive. They sat with Kim between them on the ride home, still avoiding each other's eyes. When Kim asked Dean what was the matter, he said it was nothing with blushing cheeks. She turned to ask Castiel what had happened, but he shook his head, his cheeks red as well.

Whatever had transpired, Kim figured it had changed something between the two men. Perhaps they were finally willing to admit the lingering glances and blatant stares were due to more than curiosity?


	15. Happy (For Once) Holidays

Summer and fall passed by quickly for the boys, and now winter was well under way. They'd stayed busy working with Dr. Perri, sometimes even in joint therapy sessions. The trips to the YMCA became a weekly thing, though they were now headed by Anna. The tripping incident did not repeat itself. Their free time had been a blur of paint, basketballs, AC/DC, and movie nights for the last few months. Lately, though, they'd been spending a lot of time decorating and getting into the holiday spirit. Thanksgiving had gone off without a hitch, and Balthazar and Sam had even come to visit. Castiel spent much of the dinner chatting Sam up, filling in the blanks that Dean didn't care to share. Sam was happy to see his brother acting like a normal human being towards someone besides himself. With all the compliments and praise Sam paid him, Cas was beginning to feel like his life was to coming together.

With Christmas just around the bend, though, it was hard for Castiel to hold onto his new found optimism. Christmas had always been a tense holiday in the Novak household. It was the one day a year that Lucifer would set foot in his childhood home and endure his father's burning glares. Though Castiel appreciated the gesture, he honestly hated when Lucifer came to visit. He hated tip toing around his father and watching every word he spoke so carefully; whenever his eldest brother came around, his father was even touchier than usual. Not a year went by without Castiel getting screamed at, if not having something hurled across the room at him. The anger that Father did not dare to take out on Lucifer, he gladly released upon Castiel without fail.

Still, Castiel was determined to make the best of the holiday this year. He'd spent months pondering gift possibilities for Dean, wanting to repay him for his beautiful birthday present. And on a Dr. Perri approved shopping trip, Castiel had found just the gift. He'd been wandering around one of the mall's many jewelry stores when he spotted it: a delicate sterling silver angel dangling from a thin chain. The angel had its shining onyx wings spread wide, as if it was about to take off into flight, with its hands clenched at its sides. It looked fragile yet strong, a contradiction that he believed Dean would appreciate.

So here Castiel sat in the rec room, anxious and tense, by the evergreen on Christmas Eve. He and Dean had agreed to exchange their gifts tonight, rather than in the morning, as per Dean's family tradition. Dean had sat him down by the tree and disappeared, promising that he would be back in a moment, he was just going to fetch Castiel's present. That was several minutes ago.

Though Castiel wasn't exactly enticed by the idea of Christmas, he was extremely anxious to see Dean's reaction to his present. Something about the little angel spoke to him. Perhaps it was the jet black wings, or the dainty face, or the powerful stance, but he had decided that it seemed to be a guardian angel, and Castiel definitely thought Dean needed something to protect him the way his dream catcher protected Castiel.

A few more minutes passed by before Dean finally reappeared from the hall and sat down beside Castiel. He was holding a small black box in his slightly shaking hands. It was obvious to Castiel that he was not the only anxious one.

"I'll go first," Cas offered, holding out the little blue bag he'd been clutching. Dean took it before handing Castiel his box.

"How about we open them at the same time?" Dean suggested. Castiel nodded. "Okay. One, two… Three!"

Dean tore into the bag while Castiel fiddled with the latch on the box. He wiggled it loose, took a deep breath, and flipped the box open. The moment his gift was revealed, Castiel's jaw dropped.

"Dean, I can't take this," Castiel said in hushed astonishment. The box contained Dean's amulet, the one Cas had never seen him without. The man lived with the thing around his neck; he even slept with it on. Castiel recalled Dean telling him it had been a gift from his brother when they were younger, a token of appreciation for Dean taking care of him on one Christmas night. It was his most prized possession.

"Oh my God, Cas, this is amazing!" Dean exclaimed, ignoring Castiel's protest. He held up the necklace, the angel swaying with the motion. He marveled at it a moment longer before slipping it over his head and straightening it on his neck. "I love it!"

"I'm glad, but… I can't accept this. Sam gave this to you; it's your favorite necklace. I couldn't possibly—"

"Hey. I gave it to you for a reason, okay? Sammy gave it to me for taking care of him and being there for him. Well, you've been here a lot for me the past months. Hell, in the time I've known you, I've never been in a better mental space. I don't feel crazy anymore, you know? You don't look at me like I'm a nutcase when I say that I don't think I deserve to be here. You just tell me that that's not true. Honestly, man, I don't know where I'd be without you. So I want you to have it as a little something to show my appreciation. I don't say it, I know, but I really am thankful to have a friend like you, Castiel."

This struck Castiel silent. He had no rebuttal for such reasoning. He just smiled and nodded before putting the amulet around his neck. He clutched the brass head, grateful for Dean's kind words.

"Thank you," Castiel muttered.

"Where'd you find this anyway?" Dean asked, gesturing to the angel.

"It was on one of our group shopping trips. I was wandering around a jewelry store when I saw it and thought of you. I just knew that it had to be your present. I think it could perhaps… resemble a guardian angel. This way, you will always have someone looking out for you."

"I personally think he kinda looks like you, Cas. I mean, if you were an angel." Dean glanced up at Castiel, his eyes liquid and warm. It's like the emeralds had melted, leaving pools of vibrant, burning green. "I'd like to think you're always looking out for me."

Castiel's cheeks flared, and he felt the urge to look away, but he did not. Instead he leaned in closer, his nose only inches from Dean's. He could feel Dean's warm, sweet breath fan across his face. The scent of leather and cinnamon and sugar and something that was just plain Dean drew him in, making him want to immerse himself totally. But rather, he pulled his friend into a tight embrace, smiling while doing so.

"I'll always watch over you," Castiel breathed, squeezing Dean tight. "I'll always have your back."

It went without saying that the promise went both ways. Either man would lay down his life for the other, give up anything for his friend. Their bond was more than just simple friendship; it was profound. And it was in that very moment that they both realized this. From that point on, they both knew they would never be whole without the other.


	16. That's What People Do

Christmas day was peaceful and pleasant, much to Castiel's surprise. He received gifts from Dr. Perri, Anna, Kim, and Balthazar (art supplies mostly) and got cards from the other orderlies and residents. They were served a special dinner, one that Dean enjoyed thoroughly: roasted ham, stuffing, potatoes, and of course apple pie. Altogether, it was a successful holiday.

Next up was New Year's Eve. Castiel had never understood the hype of the holiday before, but now he was excited to ring in the New Year with his best friend. He felt like it would be a fresh start, a new beginning, and he wanted to take advantage of it. He wanted to take this new year and make himself into a better person. He wanted to be more open, and giving, and most of all honest. He strived to become someone he could be proud of this year.

Dean looked at New Year's less philosophically. He saw it as an opportunity to stay up past lights out and blow obnoxiously on noise makers. At Castiel's request, however, he did make a New Year's resolution list. He aspired to make at least twenty dream catchers, get out of Blue Grass, and find a place of his own. Castiel was impressed with his ambition.

Rather than serving dinner on New Year's Eve, the cooks set out a buffet line of junk food. Mini burgers, barbeque wienies, sloppy joes, and salsa were just some of the dishes present. Dean was convinced he had died and gone to heaven.

"Oh my God, Cas, they have miniature pies! Look at it, it's so little!" Dean trilled, holding out a tiny cherry pie. It was only about three inches across. "I'm gonna have to eat, like, all of them."

"Leave some for the others, Dean," Kim said sternly, swiping the pie out of Dean's hand.

"Hey, that was mine!" Dean whined. Kim smiled impishly before walking off towards the games. Castiel chuckled at their childishness.

"So what exactly do we do tonight?" Castiel inquired. He'd never experience a true New Year's Eve party before. Dean shrugged, piling several of the mini pies on his plate.

"Well, most people play games and listen to music, stuff like that, until about five minutes to midnight. Then you all gather around the TV and talk and wait for the ball drop."

"Why? What significance does this ball have?"

"I don't really know, man. It's just tradition. You sit and watch it drop and when it does you whoop and holler and boom, it's a new year."

"That is a rather strange tradition," Castiel commented.

"I didn't say it made sense, I just said it's what you're supposed to do. We've got about an hour and a half to kill. Wanna play cards or something?" Dean suggested.

"Certainly, though you will have to instruct me on the rules. This is yet another activity I have yet to partake in."

"Just like everything else, Cas, I don't mind showing you what to do. You're like a toddler; I'm pretty used to showing you the ropes of most everything."

Dean and Castiel joined Kevin and George at the cards table. They decided to play poker, using pretzels as their bargaining chips since real gambling was against the rules and they were all broke anyway. Kevin and Dean were by far the best of the group; they could bluff and bullshit their way through anything. Castiel, however, was having trouble getting the hang of the game. He wasn't very good at keeping a straight face. They could practically read his hand by his expression. Not to mention the several times he read his hand aloud in order to get assistance from Dean to decide whether or not to fold. Poker was a game of subtleties and lies, and Castiel was good at neither.

Castiel did enjoy playing, however, and listening to the stories that Dean would tell while he dealt. He told them all about the time he got stuck up in a tree while deer hunting because he'd climbed too high and was too scared to come down. He also told them about his several high schools, and the crappy motel rooms his dad made him live in. He talked about Sam, and even said a few words about his mom. Castiel still didn't know why Mary wasn't in the picture, because whenever she was brought up, Dean would close up and stop talking. Cas didn't want to push him into sharing something he didn't want to talk about.

Kevin and George also talked about their home lives. Kevin was a majorly smart and majorly stressed out high school student whose dream was to go to an ivy league school. Had he not freaked out the day before his SATs, Castiel had a feeling Kevin could have very easily been accepted to any college he applied to. But here Kevin was, rotting away in a mental hospital because he couldn't get his damn OCD under control. The kid was capable of so much, but the illness kept holding him back. From what Kevin had told them, it didn't only affect his school life, but his personal life as well. In the last year, he'd lost most of his friend due to his OCD. He was so obsessed with being perfect and everything around him being perfect he forgot how to socialize, how to be a friend. He'd even lost his girlfriend over it.

George's home life was a little simpler. He grew up in a rural town with his parents and his sister. He got average grades and did okay at sports. He worked at a normal job and had ordinary friends. His life was the perfectly average, apple pie American life… except that he was gay. Being that both of his parents were both extremely traditional and religious, he'd decided not to tell them about his sexuality until he was out of the house. But when his mother had walked in on him and his boyfriend doing the do in his bedroom when he'd thought she was at work, well, he didn't have much choice but to come out. When George's father found out about the whole incident that night, he was furious. He beat George within an inch of his life before literally throwing him out into the street. If it hadn't been for the preacher that happened to find him lying in the gutter, he very well could have died.

George was doing a lot better now. He was overcoming his PTSD and he was learning to accept himself for who he was. He was learning that being gay didn't change who he was or who he could become. He was still a good person and it was his parents that were in the wrong.

Castiel and Dean were both absolutely disgusted with the way George's parents had treated him. Neither of them thought being gay was any reason to harm a child, especially not one so nice and polite as George. The hypocrisy of it all made Castiel want to hit something, and hit it hard. The fact that anyone thought that religion was an excuse to harm someone, especially over sexuality, made him livid. He was certain that if there was a god that he would not want his creations to be judged on something as unimportant as the person they chose to sleep with.

The boys played through three games of poker before Anna was calling them over to sit around the TV. It was exactly 11:55, just as Dean had predicted. Kevin and George took the two remaining seats on the couch, leaving Dean and Castiel to stand with Kim and Tim. Tim was munching quietly on a sandwich when they approached.

"Hey guys, mind if we join ya? Anna says we all have to watch the ball drop," Dean said.

"Oh I suppose if you must…" Kim groaned, feigning annoyance. She grinned cheekily to show her sarcasm.

"Kim, do you have any resolutions for this new year?" Castiel asked.

"Not really. I mean, obvious things, like be a better person and lose five pounds, but nothing ground breaking. Why? What are yours?"

"I'd like to be more open and honest. I want to be more giving and try to be a better friend. I just want to become someone I can be proud of this year."

"I already think you're something to be proud of, Cas. Look at ya! You're a freaking amazing artist, you can play ping pong like nobody's business, and you're a really nice guy," Dean insisted. Castiel smiled wryly before shrugging.

"If you say so," he amended.

"Alright everyone! We've got twenty seconds till midnight! I say we count it down together!" Anna bellowed. "Ready?"

Everyone gathered every closer to the TV, excitement buzzing in the air. As soon as the numbers reached ten, they started counting down.

"Ten… Nine… Eight… Seven… Six… Five… Four… Three… Two… ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!" They shouted together. Dean blew on his noise maker, Kim cheered, and the announcer on TV threw his hat into the air. The camera moved to the audience in Time Square where several people were kissing in celebration of the new year.

"Kim?" Castiel whispered, pulling on her sleeve. "Why are the people on TV kissing?"

"That's what you do on New Year's Eve! When the clock strikes midnight, you kiss the person you love!" Kim explained.

Castiel nodded. "I see."

He turned to Dean, who was still blowing on his noise maker, before plucking the annoying contraption from between his lips. He smiled broadly before leaning in and putting his lips on Dean's. Dean made a surprised, happy sound before kissing back. Electric need sparked and burst between them, sending shivers down Castiel's spine. His shaking hands were on the back of Dean's neck to keep himself steady. It was quick and chaste, but the kiss left Castiel's heart thumping and his nerves buzzing. He could taste the cherry pie from Dean's mouth on his tongue.

"What was that for?!" Dean exclaimed when Castiel pulled away.

"That's what you do on New Year's Eve, isn't it? You kiss the one you love?" Castiel breathed.

Dean wanted to correct him, to tell him that that tradition was only for couples, but he couldn't find the words. He couldn't bring himself to correct the mistake that had left him trembling; it seemed wrong to do so.

"Yeah, yeah, I spose you do," Dean agreed.

Is that what this was now? Did Dean love Castiel? From the way that kiss left him feeling, Dean was willing to bet that yes, he did.


	17. Let Us Not Beat Around the Bush

Dean glanced around the room, and much to his relief, it seemed no one had noticed the kiss. He'd gotten so caught up in the moment, he'd forgotten how frowned upon romantic relationships were here… If indeed this relationship was turning out to be romantic, he reminded himself. With as strange and naïve as Castiel had proven to be, Dean wasn't entirely sure that the kiss had meant the same thing to both of them. He needed to talk to Cas about this, and stat, but the room was too crowded. This definitely felt like one of those rare touchy feely moments that Dean didn't want to share with a bunch of head cases.

"Hey, Cas? Can we head back to our room?" Dean said quietly into Castiel's ear; Cas gave a curt nod. Just as they were about to duck out, Kim bounced up to them.

"Where you going guys?" She asked cheerily.

"Oh well, uh, Cas is kind of tired. He's not much of a party animal, you know, and it's way past his bedtime. We'll see ya in the morning, Kimmy," Dean explained as he was shoving Cas out the door. "G'night."

Before Kim could protest, Dean slipped out the door himself. Castiel was already walking to their room and Dean had to run to catch up to him. Castiel reached their door first, leaving it open so Dean could follow him in. Dean closed the door softly behind him and turned to look at Cas. His stomach was a jumble of nerves and his head was swimming with "what-ifs." What if the kiss was just a joke? What if Castiel really was that clueless and didn't realize what something like that meant? What if when he said he loved Dean, he meant it in the I-love-you-like-a-brother-and-kissing-your-face-is -just-kind-of-funny way?

But even with all of these possibilities, something in Castiel's sapphire eyes told Dean that he meant what he said, that his actions had a purpose. And though he was terrified to do so, Dean knew he had to confront his friend about what had just transpired. He couldn't spend the remainder of his life wondering what the brush of Castiel's lips on his own meant to the other man.

"Dean, you look anxious. Is something wrong?" Castiel asked gently. "Did I do something to upset you?"

"N-No, Cas, you didn't do anything. But, um, I can't help but wonder… well… exactly what you mean when you say you love me."

Castiel's expression clouded over with confusion. "It means I care about you deeply, Dean. Surely you know what the emotion feels like."

"Of course, but that's not what I mean."

"What do you mean, then?" Castiel took a step closer to Dean, his eyes searching Dean's expression for answers.

"What I mean is, well, if you meant it… like, in a brotherly way," Dean said finally, his teeth clenched.

"If you are asking if I said it platonically… Honestly, I'm not sure what you're wishing to hear. But no, I did not mean it in a "brotherly way", as you so put it. I meant to convey that I am quite truthfully in love with you, Dean Winchester. I do not know what effects this fact may have upon our friendship, but it seemed like I had no other choice but to tell you. How long can one hide such a large secret from someone they see so often? You and I are together a majority of our time, and to have such a huge secret between us is suffocating." Castiel answered with certainty and confidence.

"Truthfully, I have no idea how you feel about me. One day I am certain you return my affections, and other days I am quite sure you want nothing more than friendship from me. Do I hope you feel the same way? Of course I do. But I don't expect you to. I know I haven't got much to offer. I know I'm difficult and hard to deal with—" Castiel rambled, only to be cut off by Dean's mouth crashing onto his own. Dean's hands tangled in his hair, pulling him in impossibly close. Their bodies pressed against each other, creating an electric heat between them that caused a hungry groan to escape Castiel. Before he could get too caught up in his lust, Dean broke their kiss. Dean's hand was still placed firmly on the back of Castiel's neck, holding him so he was forced to look into Dean's eyes.

"Listen to me, Cas. You're one of the best things to ever happen to me, and if you think for one fucking second that I don't love you back, you're crazy. I know a good thing when I see one, and this, what we have right here, is possibly one of the best things I've ever known," Dean asserted. His jade eyes were focused and intense. "I love you, okay? Don't ever think I don't."

Castiel stared wordlessly at Dean, too stunned to speak. From the moment Castiel had set eyes upon him, he had known Dean was special. Something in the way he held himself, the way he spoke, set him apart from all others. And the more Castiel got to know him, the more he realized just how right his first impression had been. Dean had been through unbearable, unspeakable things, but he still held his head high. He had an unbreakable, incorruptible spirit, a glorious soul that outshined any other person Castiel had ever met. And now here he was, face to face with this fantastic man, and he was telling him he loved him back. What could he say to that?

"Okay," Castiel whispered, his mouth twitching into a shaky grin.

"Okay," Dean repeated, pulling Castiel into a warm embrace. He wrapped his arms around Dean's torso and buried his head in Dean's shoulder. He breathed in the cinnamon and leather and sugar, the scent of Dean, of home.

His entire life, Castiel had been an outcast. He'd been the strange one in school, the rebel at home, the difficult one at Blue Grass… But here, in Dean's arms, he was just Castiel. He was just himself, and that was enough. Dean accepted him, flaws, fucked up past, and all, and that was something he had never had. If one thing was for certain, Castiel never wanted to let go; not of this feeling of belonging, and most certainly not of Dean.


	18. Free Bird

"Hello boys!" Dr. Perri trilled as Dean and Castiel entered her office Friday morning. "I have fabulous news for you!"

The men exchanged quizzical looks before taking their seats. Dr. Perri sat down on the edge of her desk, making her tower over them. Her grin was bright and her eyes were clear, like she had finally had a good night's sleep. Castiel guessed they were either getting more funding or God himself had come to Dr. Perri in the night and given her a million dollars, she looked so happy. Her joy was almost intimidating.

"Well tell us!" Dean demanded, crossing his legs.

"Alright, alright! So, as you are aware, both of you have made amazing progress in the last couple months. We've come up with diagnoses for both of you, set up treatment plans, and it seems they have been doing wonders for you. Your case managers caught notice of the impressive amount of work you two have done, and they have collectively decided that you're ready to leave Blue Grass!"

Dr. Perri waited expectantly for their excitement, but she was greeted with silence. Castiel and Dean looked at her blankly, their confusion slowly turning to panic as they processed what this information meant. They were leaving Blue Grass, which in turn meant they were leaving each other.

"What?" Castiel asked faintly.

"I said you're leaving Blue Grass, Castiel! Isn't that exciting news?" Dr. Perri's smile was fading. "That is good news, isn't it?"

"Where will we be going? You're not just throwing us out on the streets, are you? Cas doesn't have anywhere to go! He hasn't spoken to most of his family in years, you can't just throw us out!" Dean exclaimed.

"Calm down, Dean! We're not just throwing you out! You don't think we'd let that happen, do you? We're sending you to a halfway house! That way you can readjust to everyday life while still being supervised. You'll be at the house for six months, which will give you time to get a job and set up living arrangements. We've thought this out thoroughly. We won't put you in any volatile situations, I assure you," Dr. Perri soothed.

Again the men exchanged looks, the same question crossing both of their minds. Dean could see the fear rising in Castiel by the way his eyes widened and his mouth stiffened.

"Well, are we going there together?" Dean asked.

"Unless you want to be separated, yes, you will go to the same house. We don't usually do that, but both of your case workers and myself felt it would be beneficial for you to have a support system already in place. Is that what you were so worried about?" Castiel's relieved expression said it all. "Well isn't that charming! You two truly are friends through and through, aren't you?"

Dean let out a shaky laugh, finally realizing that this was in fact fantastic news. Not only was he leaving this damned hospital, but he was going to take Castiel with him.

"Man, this is great!" Dean yelled, smacking Castiel's arm. "We're finally busting outta this joint!"

Castiel grinned so wide it hurt his cheeks. After two decades of the institutionalized life, he was finally leaving! Sure, it was frightening; he was leaving all he had known for the last twenty years. But he was trading it in for a new, exciting life with Dean, and the thrill of that smothered the small tendril of panic he felt growing his stomach.

"We're going to be free men in a matter of months," Castiel said, smiling.

"Indeed you are! The house is in town right on the corner of Main Street, so you'll be close to all of the important things. I set it up so you can stay over there tomorrow night, to see if it's up to your standards. If there's no issues, you'll be moving in next Saturday!" Dr. Perri informed them.

"Only one week away? Jesus, that really is close! We've only got seven days left in this hell hole!" Dean cheered, to which Dr. Perri shot him a withering look. "I mean, we'll most definitely miss this lovely establishment and the lovely staff."

Dr. Perri rolled her eyes and Dean laughed happily. "But really though, Dr. Perri, we will miss you. You've done so much for us, and it's not going to be the same without you."

"Thank you, Dean; that means a lot. Honestly, you two have been the most frustrating, and infuriating cases I've ever had, but also the most rewarding. The fact that you'll be able to have control of your own lives in a few small months is such an incredible milestone; especially for you, Castiel. I'd all but given up hope for your recovery, and then you turned around and showed me what you could really do. You've overcome your PTSD and your depression, and you've blossomed into this wonderful man. I'm very proud of the pair of you."

Dean and Castiel basked in Dr. Perri praise, enjoying the rare moment of kindness from the doctor. She'd been very hard on them in their time here, dragging them through their memories and forcing them to confront their pasts, but it had all paid off. They finally getting better, thanks to her.

"I'd like to think that your recovery was all my doing, but honestly, it was you boys who did the work. You opened up and learned how to deal with your pasts. You stood up against those who mistreated you and confronted them. You discovered new ways to cope, and you forged new support systems for yourselves. I can't take the credit for this, because you boys did it all on your own," Dr. Perri said, her eyes shining with tears. "I couldn't be more pleased to call you my patients."

"Ah, doc, don't go crying on me now," Dean huffed, standing up to pull the woman into a hug. "You're getting soft in your old age."

"Oh hush, Winchester, don't ruin the moment. Castiel, you best give me a hug a well!" Dr. Perri cried. Castiel obliged immediately by joining in on the group embrace.

"Alright, boys, alright," Dr. Perri said, breaking up the hug. "I need to finish up this paper work for the house, and you two need to get ready for group. I'll see you in a little bit."

"See ya, doc!" Dean bellowed on his way out the door.

"Goodbye, Dr. Perri," Castiel said with a smile, following Dean out.

"Can you believe this, Cas? Not only are we getting out, but we're getting out together! It looks like just this once, fate is on my side!" Dean hollered once they were in the hall.

"If there is a fate, it seems that she meant for our paths to cross," Castiel agreed.

Perhaps these boys would finally get what they deserved. After all, they had found all they needed within one another: a home, a friend, a lover, and most importantly of all, acceptance.


	19. On Our Way Out

At six o'clock the next morning, Dean and Castiel were packed into the back of Dr. Perri's car. They were waiting (rather impatiently) for her to finish explaining the day's schedule to Dustin so they could get going. After running through the list of activities and appointments each patient had planned for the day, she finally slid behind the steering wheel. She looked into the rearview mirror, smiling at the boys.

"All set to go see the house?" Dr. Perri asked as she put her keys in the ignition. They both nodded. "Okay then! Let's get going!"

It was a two hour's drive from Blue Grass into town. There wasn't much to see on the trip there; the scenery mostly consisted of trees and flat, sprawling fields, leaving Dean, Cas, and Dr. Perri to rely on one another for entertainment. They played I Spy for the first hour, only to run out of things to spy. After Cas correctly guessed Dean's object three times in a row (each time it had been a different tree), they decided to talk about the new house.

Dr. Perri told them that like the hospital, the house was limited on space, so the men would be sharing a room. And after their first week there, they would have free reign to leave whenever they pleased, so long as they signed out and signed back in. They were free to dress how they wished (no more hospital issued sweat pants!) and they could even watch R rated movies! Hot dog, they were finally being treated like adults!

Even before Castiel was admitted, he was not allowed this much freedom. For him to finally have control over so many decisions, over so many aspects of his life, he could hardly contain his excitement. When they arrived at the house, he nearly sprinted inside; he was incredibly anxious to get to know his new home.

Karen, the woman who ran the house, was very excited to show them around. She brought them to their room first, so they could drop off their bags, before beginning the tour. The house was rather large; it consisted of twelve bedrooms (each shared between two same sex patients),an office, a living room, a game room, a library, a kitchen, two bathrooms, and a laundry room. As Karen explained, it was expected of the patients to do their own laundry, cook their own food, and do the chores assigned to them each week. That was how they "earned their keep", according to her.

After the tour, Karen and Dr. Perri excused themselves to the office to fill out paper work, leaving the boys to their own devices in their room. Castiel and Dean exchanged excited looks before breaking into grins.

"We're actually leaving!" Castiel cheered happily. "Once we're done with this last leg of treatment, Dean, we're done!"

"I know, it's exciting! But… well… What are you gonna do once we are done here? Are you going home?" Dean asked, his expression turning dark.

"What home do I have, Dean? The house I grew up in is no longer my home. I have to make one of my own. I'm going to get a job, get a home, make a life for myself…" Castiel trailed off as he noticed Dean's excitement crumbling. "You're welcome to join me, of course. You gave me the courage to go after a new life. I'd like to build it… with you."

To this, Dean's smile returned 200 watts brighter. He motioned for Castiel to join him on the bed he was sitting on, pulling Cas into his lap when he got close enough.

"I would love to, Cas," he whispered gruffly, snuggling into Castiel's chest. Castiel ran his fingers through Dean's hair, grinning.

"Good, because I don't know if I could do it without you."

Dean leaned back, tilting his head up expectantly. Castiel obliged with a kiss, chaste and shy at first, only to become hungry and lustful. He turned so his legs were on either side of Dean's thighs, his hands tangled in Dean's sandy hair. Dean took Castiel's bottom lip between his teeth with a growl, his hands clawing at Castiel's back. Castiel let out a breathy moan as Dean's nails dug into his skin. Dean's stomach was knotting with arousal, and he could feel his face flush with desire. He wanted nothing more than to lay Castiel down and show him why it was called "making love", but the click of heels on wooden floors in the distance stopped him. He broke their kiss, gently pushed Castiel into a sitting position beside him, and straightened his clothes just as Dr. Perri and Karen rejoined them. Castiel smiled nervously while Dean tried to act nonchalant.

Either the doctor didn't notice the men's red faces and messy hair, or she simply didn't care. She took a seat on the bed opposite of them, an air of business about her.

"Alright boys, the paperwork is done. If all goes as planned, as of this Friday, St. Christian's Recovery Residence will be your new home," Dr. Perri said.

"We're very happy to have you," Karen added.

"We'll talk more about it when you get back to Blue Grass tomorrow, but right now all I want you to do is enjoy your visit. Get to know the other residents, get to know the staff, that sort of thing. I'll call your families tonight and let them know we're transferring you, in case they want to come visit or send letters. I guess that's everything for now. Behave, okay? I'll see you tomorrow at 12 o'clock sharp. Karen will bring you back." Dr. Perri stood, holding her arms out to gesture for hugs. The men embraced her one at a time, first Dean, then Castiel. She stood motionless, studying them for a moment, before readjusting the purse on her shoulder. "I'll be leaving then. Call me if you need anything; you have my number. Take good care of them, Karen."

"Dr. Perri, we're not staying here for good… well, at least not yet. Don't get too nostalgic, alright? We'll see you tomorrow," Dean consoled. Dr. Perri smiled sadly.

"I know, I know. It's just… this is the first step to you leaving. And I'm really going to miss you when you're gone, Winchester. You as well, Castiel. You've both been such good patients, and you've grown so much… And I…"

"Dr. Perri, perhaps it would be wise for you to leave before you start crying, hmm?" Castiel suggested, placing a hand on her thin shoulder. She nodded, her eyes shining with tears.

"Okay. See you tomorrow boys," Dr. Perri said, heading out the door.

"I'll just let you unpack your things and get settled," Karen explained, following the doctor out.

Dean and Castiel unpacked their things in no time flat. Neither of them had brought much, just a change of clothes and the necessary toiletries. Honestly, had they brought all they owned, it wouldn't have taken up more than a duffle bag each. Dean learned to live with the bare minimum, growing up on the road and all, and Castiel had bounced from hospital to hospital that many of his possessions had gotten lost. Here they would finally have the opportunity to collect more than just a few pieces of clothing, a few CDs, and a sketch book.

Dean could finally get a guitar like he had always wanted. Castiel could buy an easel, prop it up by the window and paint the day away. They could decorate with more than just taped up posters. Here they could paint, rearrange, decorate, make the room their own. This place could finally be home.

Once they were unpacked, the boys decided to seek out the other patients. They ended up making fast friends with a few men, Jamie, Kyle, and Jack. They spent the evening playing cards and shooting hoops, talking about what it was like to live in the halfway house. It seemed that all three of Dean and Castiel's new friends enjoyed living there, loved it even. They were also excited at the prospect of getting new residents, as there hadn't been new patients in a long time. Lately, people had only been getting released, not admitted.

After a full evening of being debriefed by their new housemates, Castiel was mentally exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed and listen to the sound of Dean breathing. So when Dean suggested that they head to bed, Castiel was all for it. When he walked through their bedroom door however, his plans of flopping into bed vanished. Dean's hands were on him instantly, tangled in his messing brunette locks to pull him in for a kiss. Castiel expected the kiss to be slow and gentle, however it was anything but. Dean caught Castiel's lower lip between his teeth, biting down with force. This caused Castiel to let out a yelp of shock, which only made Dean smirk.

Without breaking their kiss, Dean swept Castiel up so he had no choice but to wrap his legs around Dean's waist. Dean carried him over to his bed, laying him down so he could crawl on top. He pulled away, smiling, as he began to undo the buttons on Castiel's shirt. Castiel grinned back, his face flushed and his breathing fast. His pupils were blown wide in arousal; Dean loved how innocent it made him look. Dean let out a quiet growl as he ripped Castiel's shirt off, first trailing kisses on his neck only to sink his teeth into the skin right below Castiel's ear. Cas moaned loudly, forgetting that the surrounding rooms were almost certainly occupied.

"Are you okay with this?" Dean whispered, working off his own shirt.

"Y-Yes," Castiel replied shakily.

"I can stop if you want," Dean said, throwing his shirt to the floor. He put his hands on the waistband of Castiel's sweatpants, waiting for permission to move forward. Castiel gave a tiny nod.

"It's okay. I want to."

Dean gave Castiel a soft peck on the cheek before pulling both Castiel's pants and boxers off in one swift motion. Castiel tugged at Dean's pants, only to have Dean tear them off himself. Castiel's eyes widened in surprise, taking in Dean's full size. He squirmed anxiously, waiting for Dean to make a move.

"What do you want me to do, babe?" Dean whispered into Castiel's ear. This sent shivers down Castiel's spine.

"Touch me," Castiel whispered back.

Dean took Castiel's cock into his hand, stroking it gently. Castiel's breath hitched as a moan grew in his throat. Dean leaned back, looking down at his lover with tender eyes. Castiel smirked up at him.

"Do you really want to do this?" Dean asked. Castiel's answer was a simple, curt nod.

Dean grabbed his jeans off the floor, pulling out a bottle of lube and a condom. As he was rolling the condom on with one hand, he began working Castiel open with the other. He started off with one finger, but soon three were inside him. He clenched around Dean, balling his hands into fists. It hurt more than he expected, but he was ready. He wanted to do this.

Dean knelt over Castiel, his now lubed cock sitting at his entrance. Castiel grabbed Dean by the back of the neck and pulled him into a kiss. Castiel put his other hand on the back of Dean's back, trying to guide him inside. Dean moved slowly at first, trying to be as gentle as possible. Pain shot through Castiel as soon as Dean entered him, but with each gentle motion pleasure began to replace the pain.

Soon Castiel was moaning Dean's name, telling him to go faster. Dean stayed silent, too lost in his pleasure to make a sound. He began to pump Castiel's throbbing erection. He felt a rush of satisfaction at how Castiel squirmed under his touch. Castiel's moans were growing louder and louder; both of them were reaching the edge.

With one final pump, Cas and Dean came in unison. Dean let out a quiet groan before pulling out swiftly. He flopped down beside Castiel, covered in sweat. Cas was trying to catch his breath.

"How was it, babe? Everything you hoped and dreamed?" Dean wondered, sounding cocky.

"That was… amazing. Dean, I've never been with anyone like that. God, that really was great. I love you."

This was the closest either man had ever been to another person. They had both torn down their walls and broken all their rules to get to this point. They had nothing left to protect them from this, but neither of them cared. Even if they ended up tattered and broken, this, what they had together, was worth it.


	20. Alone Together

Dean woke to the sun shining brightly in his face. He made a note to invest in some curtains for his new room. He attempted to roll over, only to stop when Castiel's grip around his torso tightened. He had almost forgotten about last night's events; now the memories came rushing back full force. Gentle kisses, hungry, lustful bites, moaning in his ear… Oh yes, last night had been perfect.

Dean settled a hand in Castiel's hair, accidentally rousing his sleeping lover. Castiel yawned, stretched, and propped himself up on his elbow so he could look Dean in the eyes. He smiled sleepily.

"Good morning love," Castiel murmured roughly.

"Morning, babe," Dean replied softly. "How'd you sleep?"

"Like a rock. I haven't had sleep like that in… well, ever!"

"I'm glad to gear you slept okay. It's a really great surprise, waking up next to you like this. Your bed head is very cute."

"What do you mean 'surprise'? Do you not remember last night?" Castiel asked, half joking.

"Of course, baby, of course I do. How could I forget?" Dean said, snuggling into Castiel's chest. Cas let out a sigh of relief. "It was one of the best nights of my life."

"Mine too. I've never felt… closer to someone than I did to you last night. I finally felt like there was nothing coming between us. Just you and I, alone, no walls, no secrets. Maybe that sounds cliché, but it's true. "

This unsettled something deep within Dean's gut. Castiel had all this faith, all this trust in him, and yet he didn't know the man Dean had been before he had come to Blue Grass. Castiel knew nothing of the horrible things he'd done over seas. He didn't know the cause of Mary's death. He still thought Dean was this lost, wounded soul, when in Dean's mind, he was just a wicked monster.

"About that, Cas…" Dean sighed, hesitating. "There's some things I need to tell you about. I feel like I know your whole life's story; you told me all about Meg, and your dad, and your brothers. You've told me why you ended up in here… But I've never really given you the whole story. I think you should know, before this goes any further."

Castiel's eyebrows pinched together in confusion. He pulled himself up into a sitting position, looking at Dean with a worried expression. "Go ahead, Dean. Whatever you need to tell me, I'll listen."

"Okay, here goes… Well, first off, I was in the military. I signed up when I was eighteen, fresh out of high school. And I was sent over to Iraq. For the first couple months, it was pretty quiet. We mostly raided empty villages, searching for enemy soldiers. But then it got really intense. We started storming into busy cities, places full of people. On one particular mission, our communication wasn't what it should have been. Our radio system was all out of whack… I should have told my team to stop, to wait for further instruction, but we went storming into this building. Some shots were fired, I don't know from what side." Dean paused to clear his throat as his voice as beginning to crack.

"But what we didn't know was that some of our own were in the building as well. I thought I was under attack from an enemy soldier, but it was just one of my buddies trying to tell me what was happening. Before I knew what was going on, I pulled the trigger and shot him. I killed an innocent man, Cas. I'm a murderer."

Without hesitation, Castiel took hold of Dean's hand. He shook his head slowly in disbelief. "Dean Winchester, if there is anything you are not, it is a murderer. You are not responsible for that man's death. I can understand your guilt, but you were not in control of the situation. You did not mess up the flow of communication, you were not in charge. You were just doing what you could with the instructions you were given. Don't blame yourself for some freak accident."

"Cas, that's not the only thing I've done. You know how I never talk about my mom? That's because she passed away when I was a really little kid. She died in a house fire, and it was all my fault."

"How could that possibly be your fault?" Castiel demanded.

"I started the fire. A couple of my friends and I were messing around in the attic with a Ouija board. I was trying to set the mood by lighting a few candles, you know, make it spooky. Well, I wasn't being very careful, I guess, and one of the lit matches ended up on the floor. Before any of us realized, the attic was already going up in flames. My mom smelled the smoke and rushed up stairs to help us out. If she hadn't come to get me, if I hadn't been fucking around with matches, she'd still be alive. It's my fault she's dead."

The whole way through the story, Dean's voice was dead. It felt rehearsed. He'd probably told every therapist he'd ever had that story. He'd probably told it to the fire department, the police officers… his father. No wonder he was so worried about protecting what little family he had: he felt responsible for the parts that he'd lost.

"Dean, baby, you were a child. You didn't realize what you were doing. You didn't know any—" Castiel began.

"I swear to God, if you say that I didn't know any better, I will kill you Castiel. My dad told me a million times not to play with fire. He told me to never, ever touch matches without his consent. I knew what I was doing was wrong. I'm the reason my mother is dead."

"Look, Dean, I'm sorry, but if this is your attempt to get rid of me, it's not working. I don't think there's a single thing you can say that would make me want to walk away from you. I'm sorry that your mom is gone, but in my eyes it is not at all your fault. I love you more than anything in this entire world, I've changed everything in my life to fit around you, and I will not sit here and let you try and push me away. I love you, and you love me. I can understand that you're afraid, that you've been through a lot, but so have I. And I'm willing to trust you. Are you willing to trust me?"

Castiel's voice was stern and uncompromising. His icy stare was perfectly fixed on Dean, waiting for his answer. Dean swallowed nervously, unsure of how to respond. It still caught him off guard how… up front Castiel could be.

"Y-Yes of course," Dean answered unsteadily. "Of course I trust you. I just… Cas, you deserve so much better than me. I'm just an ex-soldier with a drug addiction and suicidal tendencies. And you… You're so much more."

"I think I am the one who gets to judge what I do and do not deserve. As far as I am concerned, Dean Winchester, you are the best thing in my life. You gave me a voice and happiness when I had none. I do not care what is in your past, only what is in our future."

They sat in silence for a moment, simply looking at one another. Dean's mouth melted into a beautiful grin before he began to nod.

"Okay, okay, I get it. I'm stuck with you."

"Indeed you are," Castiel agreed. "Indeed you are."


	21. Just When You Thought You Had It

The car ride back from the halfway house was a quiet one. It wasn’t the sort of quiet that made you hold your breath and stiffen your back. It was the kind of silence that gave you room to think, to be comfortable in your own head, because you knew that they were thinking as well.

Dean felt much better now that Castiel knew it all. He’d told him about the murder, the fire, his time in Iraq, and still Castiel wanted to stick around. Obviously he had done something right when he chose to trust this man. Never in his life had Dean had someone that he could trust so completely. Even Sammy looked at him funny, when he thought Dean couldn’t see. He knew that especially the last few years that Sam felt awkward around him, thought he would break Dean’s fragile sanity if he wasn’t careful. But Castiel didn’t look at him like that, didn’t treat him like a breakable little boy. He was up front and honest and loyal, and that was something that Dean needed in his life.

For Castiel, Dean was the closest thing he’d ever had to a home. Even when he was a child, the tiny, faded blue house he grew up in felt constricting and unwelcoming. He’d felt out of place from day one. But with Dean, he felt accepted, he felt loved and understood. He had nothing to hide from Dean, and now Dean had nothing to hide from him. This was everything Castiel had wanted with Meg, but never got. This was so much more than he could have ever thought to ask for. He’d fallen in love with his best friend, and his best friend had fallen for him. Dean wanted to be with Castiel, wanted to share his life with him, and he never would have expected that. He had someone, he had a home.

They arrived back at Blue Grass at twelve o’clock on the nose. They grabbed their bags out of Karen’s car, thanked her for the ride, and rushed up stairs. They were both eager to get back to Dr. Perri and further discuss moving. She had left before they could work out any of the details, and both Dean and Castiel were anxious to know just how long they had to wait to move into their new home. The second the elevator doors opened to their floor, however, their excitement faded. Dustin was waiting for them at the front desk, a grave expression etched onto his face.

“Dr. Perri needs to see you, Winchester. You can leave your bags with me. Novak, I think it would be best if you would accompany him.” Dustin’s voice was lacking its usual sarcastic edge. This made Castiel nervous.

The boys left their bags at the front desk, as instructed, and made their way to Dr. Perri’s office. For once, her office was not occupied upon their arrival. She only summoned patients to an empty office when she had something of the utmost importance to tell them. This couldn’t possibly result in good news.

“Excuse me, Dr. Perri? We’re back,” Castiel said, peeking around the corner of her doorway.

“Come in,” she said softly. Without standing, as she usually did, she motioned for them to sit. They did.

“Doc, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s wrong?” Dean asked.

Dr. Perri’s mouth flattened into a cold, hard line. Her face was drained of all color, and her eyes were wet. She looked like she was going to faint or throw up or both.

“Dean, I… I have some terrible news. I, um, got a phone call this morning… from your father,” Dr. Perri explained, her voice quivering. “And it would seem that… well, that your bother got into a car accident last night. He was on his way over here to drop off some of your clothes and a semi hit him head on.”

Dean took a moment to absorb what the doctor had just said. He replayed it in his mind at least ten times, trying to grasp the meaning of her words. Sammy? In a car accident? A semi?

“Well, is he okay?” Dean asked, his voice ominously even.

“I’m afraid… Dean, I’m sorry, but I’m afraid he didn’t make it. He died on impact.”

The ensuing silence was suffocating. It was so quiet Dean could hear his frantic heart beat in his ears. He wanted to say something, to deny what the doctor was telling him, but his mouth wouldn’t move. Sam wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be dead. He’d just called Dean a couple days ago, rambled on about his job, and his girlfriend, and school. Sam was so young; he had his whole life ahead of him. He couldn’t be dead. He was too good, too pure to be dead.

“You’re lying,” was all Dean could manage.

“Dean, I’m sorry, but it’s the truth,” Dr. Perri whispered.

“But it can’t be!” Dean shouted, throwing his chair back as he stood. “Sammy was just a kid, he can’t be dead! He never did anything wrong, how can he be dead?!”

“I know this is hard to process—“ Dr. Perri tried.

“He’s not fucking dead! He can’t be! He had his whole damn life ahead of him, he can’t just be gone! I just talked to him the other day. He was just fine. He can’t just be gone. He doesn’t deserve this!”

“No one does, Dean,” Castiel soothed.

“That should have been me,” Dean stated, his voice dead.

“Don’t say that!” Dr. Perri snapped.  
“No, really, it should’ve been! Sam was nothing short of fucking perfect; straight A’s, a good job, a good girl, everything. He deserved all of that, because he worked fucking hard. And he’s the one to die young? I’m the drug addict, alcoholic asshole of the family! If anyone deserved to die, it was me!”

“That’s not true!” Castiel protested, reaching out to Dean.

“I can’t do this,” Dean said, jerking away from Castiel’s touch. “I can’t fucking do this.”

Before Dr. Perri or Castiel could stop him, Dean was already out the door. Castiel could hear his shoes pounding on the tile floors as he ran away. Just when Castiel thought he had him, Dean was running the opposite direction. What could he possibly do to fix this?


	22. Wake Me Up When It Ends

For the next few days, Dean avoided the rec room, skipped group, and even blew off his meetings with Dr. Perri. Dustin and Anna tried to coax Dean out of his room a couple times, but when one of his shoes went whizzing by Dustin’s head, missing him by mere millimeters, they decided it was best to leave him alone. He didn’t speak to anyone, not even Castiel. Mostly, Dean spent his days curled up in bed. He didn’t read, or listen to music, or even sleep. He would just stare at the wall with a glassy, faraway look in his eyes. Sometimes tears would slip from his eyes, though he wasn’t really crying. He didn’t sniffle, or sob, or scream. The tears would just stream silently down his stony face as his glare burned a hole through the wall.   
By his third day of inactivity, Castiel was beginning to worry. He knew that Dean was grieving, but this seemed to be more than just that. Dean wasn’t behaving as if he had lost his brother; he was acting as if he had lost his will to live. After Dean knocked over his lunch tray as a refusal to eat for the second day in a row, Castiel knew it was time to act. He had to talk to Dean, and he would not take silence for an answer.  
“Dean, baby,” Castiel began. “You need to eat.”  
Dean lay unmoving and unresponsive, his eyes trained intently on the wall. He didn’t even bother to look at Castiel when he spoke to him.   
“This is getting out of hand. You haven’t eaten or spoken or even moved in almost three days. It’s time to do something, to sit up, to shower.”  
Still no response.  
“Dean, you can’t mope forever.”  
Dean’s eyes snapped to Castiel, an angry look in them. “You lose your brother, the person closest to you in the entire fucking world, and tell me that you would be so willing to get up and move on. He was everything to me, Castiel. Everything. So don’t you fucking stand there and tell me to just get over it.”  
“I’m not saying that—“  
“The fuck you’re not! You and everyone else here has been trying to get me to cheer up and dust myself off from the second Dr. Perri told me. And it just doesn’t work like that, okay?! If you’re going to sit here and lecture me about how life’s not fair and everyone dies and I have to treasure every day and all that bullshit then you can fuck right off!” Dean shouted. “It’s my fault that Sam is gone and I can’t just get up and go about my day knowing that.”  
“It’s not your—“  
“Finish your fucking sentence and I will slap you, Castiel Novak. Don’t test me.”   
“Dean, I’m just trying to help,” Castiel insisted. “Quit being such a prick.”  
“If you’re really trying to help then leave me alone. Give me a few hours to myself. Oh, and when you come back, get me a new blanket from the nurse’s station. This one is shit,” Dean growled before turning over to face the wall.  
Castiel stood there, his mouth agape, as he tried to decide what to say. But rather than continue to argue with Dean, which was getting him absolutely nowhere, he chose to do as he was asked. He left the room without another word.


	23. Stay With Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Self harm and suicide and are explored in this chapter. If you are easily triggered, or believe this may put you at risk, DO NOT READ. Nothing is more important that your safety. 
> 
> If self harm is not a trigger for you, but suicide is, you can read the ALTERNATE ENDING. Be safe, guys!

A few hours later, with a new, soft blanket in hand, Castiel marched back to his room. He had half a mind to chew Dean out, to shout at him that he didn’t deserve to be treated like this. In these past three days, he had been nothing but kind to Dean and Dean had repaid him with only cold glares and angry words. He was definitely going to get an earful about how to treat others with respect. The loss of his brother did not give him the right to act like an outright asshole.

Castiel took a deep breath, his hand on the handle of their door. He had to stand up to Dean, to snap some sense back into him. This behavior was really beginning to scare him. He just had to explain what he was doing was not going to solve anything. He just had to tell Dean how his hostility and disinterest was making everyone around him feel. Yes, then he would come around. Dean was going to be okay, Castiel told himself. He shook out his shoulders and put on his best determined look. He was going to make Dean see the light. 

After taking another deep breath, Castiel swung open the door. He opened his mouth to begin his lecture, only to lose his words. The blanket slipped out of his slack fingers and fell noiselessly to the ground. 

Dean was crumpled on the floor, lying in a pool of blood. A busted shaving razor laid next to him, several of its blades scattered on the floor. Dean held one in his fist. His slashed wrists were cradled to his chest and his face was vacant. His tear streaked cheeks were swollen and red. His once liquid jade eyes were now frozen over. One look at him, and Castiel knew it; he knew he was gone. 

Castiel couldn’t even find it in himself to yell, to scream out. He dropped to his knees with only a small, strangled cry catching in his throat. With everything in him, he wanted to shout at the top of his lungs, to curse the Gods above, to scream for help. But he was numbed by disbelief. This couldn’t be happening, not now. They were only a few days away from freedom. This couldn’t be true.

“Dean,” Castiel mouthed, taking Dean’s frigid hand in his own. “Dean, baby, wake up.”

Dean did not answer. He continued to lay, motionless, in the puddle of blood; his blood, Castiel realized. The disbelief was dissolving into panic, a frenzied emotion that burned through Castiel’s veins. Tears began to well up in his eyes, and he started to tremble.

“Please!” he cried, squeezing Dean’s fingers. “Please, baby, wake up! Please!” 

Castiel gripped Dean shoulders, trying to shake him into consciousness. He shook him until his arms grew tired, but Dean was still stiff and lifeless. All of the animation and vibrancy had left Dean’s body. His beautiful soul, his shining, unbreakable spirit, had faded.

“You can’t do this to me!” Desperation made Castiel’s voice quiver and break. His entire body was trembling in anguish. “You can’t just leave like this!”

Castiel pulled Dean into him, holding him to his chest. He gripped the back of Dean’s neck as the tears began to fall. The reality of it all hit him like a train, causing an agonized wail to rip out of his throat. His lover, his best friend, his everything, was gone.

“I’m sorry!” Castiel howled. “I’m so, so sorry!”

The pound of hurried footsteps could be heard out in the hall, alerted by Castiel’s tormented cries. Castiel was only vaguely aware of the people that piled into the room and the chaos that ensued. It was all loud voices and panicked questions, but he could focus on nothing they asked him. He could only concentrate on the man in his arms. He could only see the emptiness that filled Dean’s features. Only when they tried to free Dean from Castiel grip did he snap to.

“Don’t take him from me,” Castiel whimpered. “Please, don’t take him from me. He’s all I have. Don’t take him from me.” 

He cradled Dean’s body to his chest protectively, rocking back and forth. His fingers tightened in Dean’s hair as more sobs racked through him.

“Castiel, we have to see him,” Anna whispered softly. Castiel realized for the first time that she was crouched in front of him, her hands on his arm. She was trying to pry Dean loose from his hold. 

“Anna, please. He’s all I have. He can’t be gone. He can’t just leave me like that. He can’t.”

“If you don’t let him go, we won’t be able to help. You have to let go so we can save him,” Anna coaxed. 

This convinced Castiel to open his arms. Anna laid Dean down on the floor, checking his pulse before beginning CPR. After twenty unsuccessful minutes, it was declared. As of 11:27 PM of August 20, Dean Winchester was officially dead.


	24. Epilogue

He sat alone, observing everyone milling about the "nutrition center" as per usual. He listened to their chatter, watched their smiling faces. He watched them interact with each other, stared on as they laughed and grinned and joked. His heart ached as he remembered all those years ago when he had done those things. It almost seemed like he had made it up, like it was a dream he had just woken from and that it was slipping away the more he tried to remember. He was almost convinced that the man had never existed, that he had imagined the memories that he had of him. But a heart did not break in such a way for dreams; it did not throb in such a painful manner for something imaginary.

It had been over forty years since he had laughed and chattered like that. In fact it had been over forty years since he had spoken at all. He had taken up his vow of silence, lost his voice along with his lover. He saw no reason to converse if it meant only to form bonds that would later be broken. Had any other patient been so uncooperative, they would have been transferred. But the doctors at Blue Grass had an unspoken rule concerning this man. No matter which doctor took over the head position, they all agreed that his case was a special one. He had suffered a loss so great that they would not dare to push him. He had been through enough as it was. Yes, they agreed that no matter what, if he so wished, he could live out the rest of his days in silence. Because his vow had been broken for someone so special and dear, they agreed that he should be able to take it up again since that someone had slipped away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: I have really enjoyed writing this story. It has been a great experience to take something from my mind, and shape it into a story. It’s amazing to take a small idea and turn it into thousands of words. However, I must say, the best part about this has been you, my wonderful readers. I am so thankful for all the support you have given me. Without you guys pushing me along, this fic never would have gotten finished. I know the ending is bitter sweet, but it is always the one I intended to write. I hope you enjoyed this journey as much as I have. I look forward to writing more fics for you guys in the future. Please leave your final thoughts in a review for me. I love reading them. Thank you all so much, once again!


	25. Alternate Ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alone Together was one of my very first fanfictions, and definitely one of the lengthiest and most popular. I had so much fun writing it, because every update gave me a flood of amazing feedback and lovely compliments. You, my readers, kept me inspired and renewed my energy for this fic every single day. Because of this, writing the ending to Alone Together was very hard. Saying goodbye to the world I had built around Dean and Cas was very sad for me, so I felt a sad ending would be fitting.
> 
> Though the original ending is the one that I always intended for this fic, and would be considered the "true ending" in most cases, I felt that I had a certain responsibility to you all. I've gotten many messages and comments requesting an alternate ending, and because you have all been so kind and interactive, I figured you deserved a happily ever after.
> 
> Again, this is an alternate ending. This is not the *true* ending of the fic, but if you like to think this is how it went down, all the more power to you!
> 
> I love you all. Thank you for reading this.
> 
> ALSO, TRIGGER WARNING: There is graphic depictions of self harm. DO NOT READ IF THIS WILL PUT YOU AT RISK. Nothing is more important than your safety.

A few hours later, with a new, soft blanket in hand, Castiel marched back to his room. He had half a mind to chew Dean out, to shout at him that he didn’t deserve to be treated like this. In these past three days, he had been nothing but kind to Dean and Dean had repaid him with only cold glares and angry words. He was definitely going to get an earful about how to treat others with respect. The loss of his brother did not give him the right to act like an outright asshole.  
Castiel took a deep breath, his hand on the handle of their door. He had to stand up to Dean, to snap some sense back into him. This behavior was really beginning to scare him. He just had to explain what he was doing was not going to solve anything. He just had to tell Dean how his hostility and disinterest was making everyone around him feel. Yes, then he would come around. Dean was going to be okay, Castiel told himself. He shook out his shoulders and put on his best determined look. He was going to make Dean see the light.

After taking another deep breath, Castiel swung open the door. He opened his mouth to begin his lecture, only to lose his words. The blanket slipped out of his slack fingers and fell noiselessly to the ground.

Dean was crumpled on the floor, lying in a pool of blood. A busted shaving razor laid next to him, several of its blades scattered on the floor. Dean held one in his fist. His slashed wrists were cradled to his chest and his eyes were half closed. The color in his face had drained away, leaving it pale and sickly.

It took Castiel a moment to overcome his shock, but when he realized what he was seeing, he dropped to his knees beside Dean. He placed a hand on either side of his lover’s cool face, watching intently for any sign of life.

“Dean? Dean?!” Castiel shook him slightly, hoping to rouse him from his deadly sleep. The flicker of Dean’s freckled lids told Castiel that he was still alive. “Dean! Dean, you have to wake up! Dean!”

Castiel shook him again, this time more roughly. Dean’s eyelids fluttered open, but his eyes were uncomprehending and hazy from the blood loss. He tried to sit up, but Castiel’s firm and gentle hand stopped him.

“You need to lie back down,” Castiel said, his voice calm and steady despite the incredible amount of adrenaline pumping through his veins. “I need an orderly in here! Someone’s been hurt! I need help!”

Dean pressed his bloody wrists closer to his chest, as if he realized that he was the injured person. His gaze traveled up to Castiel’s face, his jade eyes burning intensely.

“You weren’t supposed to find me,” Dean breathed, his voice regretful and shallow. “You weren’t supposed to save me.”

Castiel pulled Dean closed to him, so that Dean’s head was in his lap. The sound of pounding feet on linoleum tile told them that help was close, if not a few seconds away. Castiel ran a hand through Dean’s hair before replying.

“That’s the thing about me, Dean. I’m always going to save you.”


	26. Alternate Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the epilogue to go along with the alternate ending. Enjoy!

Dean had never imagined his life would come around after Sam’s death. He thought that his little brother’s passing was game over, that he had nothing left to life for. But the incident with Castiel had shown him just how wrong he was.

Over the next few months, Dean made a steady recovery. Dr. Perri put him in intensive counseling sessions every day of the week, even coming in on her days off to work with him. He took up guitar and learned how to play out his frustrations and write away his grief. Castiel talked him down from his bad moments, even came over from St. Christian’s at three in the morning once because Dean was so upset. He had bad days, and broke things, and screamed at people he shouldn’t have, but he didn’t hurt himself. He would never hurt himself again.

Having Castiel stand by him through all the screaming, and crying, and fighting made Dean realize just how much he needed him. Though he missed Sam every single day, and his very first thoughts were of his little brother, he could get through and even enjoy his life because Castiel was beside him. Without that man, Dean would have been dead.

Once he recovered enough, Dean joined Castiel at St. Christian’s. They decorated their room, they painted, they got jobs. They did everything they said they were going to. With time, Dean healed and learned to live with his loss. He turned it into fuel for his lyrics, for his music. He turned it into hope.

That hope is what kept Dean going for the rest of his life. The hope that Sam, and Cas, and Dr. Perri all gave him. It was the hope that he was strong enough. It was the hope that things would get better. It was the hope that love would last.

And it did. That love did last.


End file.
